All these years, I’ve been mistaken.

I thought a job was something people enjoyed.

It’s not. A job is hell.

I wake up every morning and go to hell.

Then I come home in the evening and try to forget it ever happened.

Next morning, hell.

In the evening, escape from hell.

Weekends, stay as far away from hell as possible.

Mondays, hell starts all over again.

I don’t know why it took me so long to realize this.

Was Ward Cleaver really happy at work? I know he used to grumble sometimes. But then June would bring him a cup of coffee and he’d light his pipe, and maybe yell at Beaver, and everything was right in the world. June and those pearls, mmm mmmm.

Ward surely didn’t have this nifty little wiki that strives to make everything sunshine and lollipops.

Having a bad work day? The first rule is to admit that you’re having a bad work day. Surrender to the reality that your day sucks, that your job is hell and your boss is satan incarnate. Isn’t this pleasant? I feel so much better.

Then, tell your moronic coworkers you’re having a bad day, and apologize in advance for ripping their tiny little heads off and screaming down their throats because, you know, you’re having a bad day, and you realize it, and you’re so sorry.

Next, look inside to find truth. Right. With introspection comes relief. Am I angry because I slept with my arm twisted under my body and woke up with a useless limb being pricked by all those tiny little stars? Or maybe it’s because Billy Knight’s dad inadvertently blew up my Tonka trucks when I was 9, and no amount of therapy can allay the terror of watching the wheels on the dump truck melt.

Then remember the good stuff (lunch), and remember that hell is only temporary; there’s a 26-hour pass at the end of every workday until it starts all over again. If that doesn’t work, you could “take a long bathroom break.” That’s the first thing that really makes sense.

When you have a fleeting good mood at work, leverage it. Was it triggered by a song? Are they serious? How about a little ditty by AC/DC?

If all of this fails, read the wiki on dealing with a bad boss, where the last rule is “quit now!”

One day at work I was searching to salve my weary soul and I Googled, “I hate my boss.” The words just came to me, maybe in a song, or during a long bathroom break. (I find that searching for solutions to complaints, during work time, makes hell move along a little faster — that and the occasional nap.)

Remarkably, this site popped up.

It’s actually full of helpful advice, like, don’t count on HR for help, have an exit strategy and avoid pushing the boss’s buttons, which, until I read this, I thought was my purpose for going to hell every day.

My boss is currently going through management training. Imagine that. Three years on the job and someone — a boss, because they make all the good decisions — decided that our manager should actually learn some managing skills. Part of the training, through HR, is a 360 review — everyone around her, from her bosses to her peers to her underlings, gets a piece of the action. I was honest. Then I remembered the truism: don’t trust HR. So for the next few weeks I’ll be devoting some time in hell researching new career fields. I think I’d like to run a produce stand.