Hollow Cost

I recently discovered, as all young employees of an office do, the supply cabinet. It is a rite of passage not unlike that of the Bar Mitzvah, in which analogy the office is the equivalent of Judaism. To make that understood, I have included a helpful graphic.:
(To be read as: all statements heretofore will be made under the presumption that the office space is allegorical to the Jewish religion)

So now that I have been oppressed since the dawn of time for killing Jesus Christ (and even before that, just for no reason), I feel I have reason to celebrate my becoming a man with long drawn out process, not unlike memorize an ungodly (pun (un)intended) amount of the Torah or learning the entire Hebrew language. I will be making a paper clip chain. And yes, I put these on the same level of importance and difficulty. I will add one paper clip for every day, I work here as a reminder of the forty years my forefathers spent wandering the desert without food or water, which I find is very similar to three hours a day I spend sitting in an air-conditioned office and proof-read. It may even be worse because sometimes the air-conditioner is turned up way too high. But I overcome, just as those who came before me did and those who will come after me. No Holocaust jokes (this time), I’m much too classy for that.
But some of you are asking: “Eric, what is a paperclip?” and “Eric, how will make a paperclip chain?” To which I reply, “You’re retarded, but I will explain it to you anyways because I love any chance to add a visual aid.” So here you are:


And how many?” you ask, in my glow you doth bask. “Why,” I reply with a chortle of good cheer, “One for everyday that I work here.”

Another day, another night, another year…/This better not be all I got
--Jingle Jangle, Hot Hot Heat

*Note, my office looks nowhere near as cool as the one depicted with strange shaped chairs, glass walls, and white people.