It's not the
end of the day, the time I normally write my daylogs. It's
1:46pm in the afternoon and I sit at work and at this point I don't give a damn if my supervisor sees that I am
goofing off. I should just walk out of here and never look back. That's what I keep thinking as I sit here
bored out of my mind. I know I could be doing better than this. I know it. I can't stand these people I am working with, their stupid pathetic little conversations about nailpolish and hair dyes and whatever!
ARGH! Please, if there is a god, let something very large and heavy fall onto the heads of my
co-workers so that they may be squashed and die. Demented? Maybe.
I don't care.
Okay, my
bitchfest is over. But I still haven't decided whether I should go through two more torturous hours or just
get the hell out of here. I'm usually more tolerant than this, but I could be doing so much more.
Screw this!