I spend all weekend calming myself down and telling myself its just a job and it doesn't matter and I shouldn't get so worked up over it blah blah blah but apparently I must for some reason care about my job because within twenty minutes of walking in the door the rage returns. And it is ruining my bloggy flow. Once in awhile I have a witty thought about something to blog about it and forget to write it down, but the majority of my time is spent in the midst of work rage or suppressing work rage. If by some chance I would happen to blog from work the post would look something like this:
FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCKING CUNTS LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK PIECE OF SHIT FUCKING LAZY ASSES STUPID FUCKING JOB FUCKING STAB BITCHES IN THE EYE FUCK FUCK MAKE YOUR OWN GODDAMN COFFEE FUCK FUCK FUCKING HANG MYSELF FROM THE RAFTERS ABOVE MY CUBICLE FUCK FUCK FUCK HELLO MAY I HELP YOU?
It applies to both jobs. And then I come home and have a glass of wine or beer and either sit on the couch and sigh or sit at the computer and sigh while clicking refresh a hundred times on my myspace homepage or facebook.
I won't really elaborate because nobody really wants to hear about people's jobs that they don't really know anything about, it's about accounting and gl accounts and boss's sisters and meh, suffice it to say the devil doesn't really wear prada but a lot of eddie bauer.
I am taking a four day weekend, friday through monday, hoping to regain a little bit of sanity and reel in my Tourette's (the self-editing mechanism that filters what I'm thinking before it comes out of my mouth seems to be on the fritz lately). I plan on drinking a lot of coffee (or mimosa's I haven't decided yet--maybe both), doing some serious spring cleaning, putting together a proper computer desk, and just.... not working. I need a break, even though I have been busting my ass for the last week to have things caught up enough that I am not too behind next Tuesday so maybe it negates itself.
The point here is that since I promised myself only quality posts, no blogging just for the sake of blogging, is that I hope to either clear my head enough this weekend, or at least drink my problems away enough in order to continue to bring you juicy updates about my own personal LOL Cats, my druggie neighbors and oh yeah, those silly arrogant people who have penises who like to refer to themselves as what, oh yeah, that's right, men. Boys, whatever, pffffffft.
8 comments:
I say go with the mimosa's. Get shatty. Get real good and shatty, and stop hating on the penises.
Maybe I will get some irish cream for my coffee in the mornings and switch to mimosa's for lunch, that way I am getting at least two food groups, dairy and fruit.
The mimosa's sound good, but I bet you really need...
suffice it to say the devil doesn't really wear prada but a lot of eddie bauer
NO! In my office, she wears flats and a whole lot of Talbots and Ann Taylor.
Evil penis people. Fuckers.
Is 'get some irish cream for my coffee in the mornings and switch to mimosa's for lunch' some kind of code for having sex with chicks? Cause if it is, I say hell's yeah, Cinders, go for it. If it's not, then I suppose that is okay as well...
But certainly not as interesting.
Clone-
Oh yes, and I'm not hating on the penises, I'm hating on the creatures
that are unfortunately to them.
WakBlak-
Yeah, I probably do. We'll see. Maybe that's the last thing I need.
Trouble-
Must be having a good run of luck yourself, hey?
Patrick-
Maybe I will have some sex with chicks. You never know where the wind my take me!
Geez you guys. I didn't even mention sex and thats all you seem to have on your minds.
I understand your work rage. Just please, find your bloggy outlet to take your rage out on...
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