Behold the broken worker. Once there was a time when he was king of his kingdom; happy to socialise with his fellow man after a hard day’s labour. His leisure activities knew no bounds and he could spend his free time as he wished visiting and exploring as he pleased. There’d be tales of his exploits upon his return and conquests over his workmates. Now he’s limited to what he can do. He spends his days in the pub greeting his friends as before but every transaction has to last in an attempt to save every penny. Each day is only about how he feels and the treatment that he receives from those that attempt to heal him. His social posts are now grumbles compared to the awe that they inspired before. The positivity has diminished. He feels useless because he can’t contribute. But he must go on in the hope that things will get better.
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