I not-so fondly remember my first job in the corporate world.
I showed up early, eager to get at it. I arrived at a semi-skyscraper of about 15 floors and after buzzing for entry, at a brightly lit door with a security camera, the door was opened and I proceeded down a hall and into my first view of a fully cubicle’d floor. 
To elaborate… an entire open floor wide and approx 2 floors to the ceiling with nothing but row after row of cubicles, identical, like some Apple commercial gone steroidal. If you’ve never seen an entire floor without walls or dividers then I must add that you can take 10 minutes to traverse one side to another.
Since this was an “all night” job most of the rows were dark. We proceeded quietly and somewhat grudgingly towards a small lit area almost in the exact middle, it was the only lit cove in a sea of black and grey dividers. The employee that I followed had his head hung and a slight arch in his back, as if he had been carrying a heavy weight all day and it was all he could do to move forward. He greeted me with not so much as a nod of his head at the door and proceeded forward, waving his arm behind him for me to follow.
We arrived at the lit desk. A recessed model where the keyboard and monitor were actually inside the desk and at an angle back. I quickly mounted my erogomic steed, ready to ride it out. 
After gaining minor instruction on how to access the system and where to store the data the employee pointed at about 30 stacks of boxes. Each box was at least double the size of a bankers box. To the side of my station was one of the contents of that box, a green and white striped stack of 20 inch wide track fed printer paper. Now if you don’t know what that is, it’s a continous piece of paper with little holes on both sides. 
Each side (of holes) is perforated so you can tear it off and each page is perforated so that it can be separated and the pages are covered in green stripes and dot matrix black text. My instructions were to reach in the box, tear off about 2 inches of the paper and type in the data that appeared on each page, line by line and then rinse and repeat.
The employee informed me that I would be locked in, that I was the only person here… and he would be back in the morning to relieve me. He nonchalantly pointed out the exits in case of emergency and the bathroom then turned on his heel and proceeded back down the long row of cubicles and disappeared into the darkness.
Being young and eager and mostly ignorant I embraced this task with great joy and set off to set a new typing record. The first hour I burned through the entire 2 inches sitting in front of me… I was a little bit disillusioned I realized I would barely be through a box in one night!
I was curious to know exactly how far these boxes were stacked and so I made as if going to the bathroom (although I was alone) and peered into the darkness of the adjacent rows as I marched by. To my surprise they too were filled with boxes.
Lunch time could not come too soon. About half and hour early hunger struck me and my words per minute plummeted. Even though I worked feverishly typing 100′ of words-per-minute I was only halfway through a box, this was unreal, so slow and tedious… as if it might actually take longer than my life was long to finish the task.
As I walked toward the bathroom eating my sandwhich I quickly realized I was staggering sightly due to the fact that I could see green striped lightly overlayed over everything in my vision. Yes, I had been staring at that green screen and green paper so long I could see the pattern, like a watermark, on everything in front of my eyes. I waved my head back like Stevie Wonder and enjoyed the colors.
2 hours after lunch I reached a command decision (6 hours and almost 1 box into the early morning). This was not for me. Sure I typed over 120wpm and yes I needed a job but something about working, alone, in that massive dark space, doing the same task over and over and the fact that now everything I looked at had a solid green stripe in the middle… no, my limit had been reached.
I was not spending my life as a drone.
I logged out of my station and left a kind note on the back of one the green bar printouts that said, “Thank You very much for the opportunity and I apologize for leaving early but my real life is calling me. – Alan”.