I hate my job.

So I have this pathetic excuse of what I call a job. I can't complain. I work in the city. But the only enjoyment I get out of working at this law firm is the forty-five minutes bus ride into Manhattan, the twenty minute walk from Port Authority to 3rd Ave & that I have Starbucks right around the corner from me. Oh, & of course I love that cash that worsens my shopping addiction. & seriously, my love for shopping is a bit of a problem. Just ask my best friend about it. I can drop over 250 in fifteen minutes. & yes it has been done a couple of times in my life. I see nothing wrong with it but others like to think otherwise. Anyway, I'll carry on with love of fashion another time; back to my job. I have a cushy job. First, my aunt is my boss. Seriously, what a joke. I make up my hours & come & go as I please. Second, I sit at a desk all day & scan documents. I scan useless documentation from closed files. Cases that happened years ago. On top of all of this I did even have to interview for this job. I just called up my aunt & said "do you have anything for me". Whether she did or not, she would have made up a position for me, like she did now. Yes, my position in this law firm is nonexistent. But my aunt loves me so much to make something up for me. Honestly, I don't have to work. I live at home with my beloved parents & they pay for everything. I pretty much work to keep myself busy so I don't bore myself to tears. & it wouldn't make a difference if I was home doing nothing or here because I'm just as bored. All work & no play makes Amanda a very dull girl.