Pushing Buttons Behind A Cash Register

I spend my life everyday this way,
At work, definitely not at play.
As my days become numbered,
I wonder if I'll go on from here
To something more grand
Than just perpetually pushing buttons
Behind a cash register.

There's some substance to me, you see.
I'm not just some ol' fool.
People accuse me of wasting my life
Because I'm twenty-four and working in a store.
But I'm working really hard to achieve my goals,
And they don't include this virtual prison.
They don't include pushing buttons
Behind a cash register.

Life has thrown me a few curves,
And several times, I have struck out.
I've found myself flat on my face
In a dry, parched desert known as the mental wasteland.
So many of my old buddies from the day
Have gone on to grander things in life,
While I have remained here, static.
However, I intend to match their accomplishments
With my wit and desire to achieve,
Because my plans don't include pushing buttons
Behind a cash register for the rest of my days.