Stress?

I walk,
doing my job.
Something else,
on me you just fob.
I hope for respite,
you watch,
from Olympian height.

I crawl,
to the bar on a Friday.
I drink,
as a sort of M'aide.
I hope for respite,
and get ?
More work despite.

I run,
like a stuntman on fire.
Flailing,
the workload gets higher.
I hope for respite,
instead ?
no glimmer of light.

I sit,
wearing my Bacofoil Hat.
You say,
"Do this. Then do that."
I hope for respite,
am told ?
Go fly a kite.

I crouch,
wearing y-fronts on head,
Deciding,
which memos need read.
I hope for respite,
Yeah,
That'll be right.

I squirm,
straightjacket tied tight!
Panicking!
can't work thru the night!
I might get respite!
But Management says,
"You're responsible for your own plight!"