Displicencia

I am so fucking bored today. The tedium of what I have to do at work today* is so overwhelming it feels like an altered state of consciousness. Which I s'pose it is, only a really shit one. Time has gone bendy, I'm so tired that my eyes have that special slightly hot and too big for their sockets feel, coffee is having no effect on me whatseoever, and the official office cretin will not fucking shut up**. I'll be in a much better mood the second I'm out of this building, but that's not for a few hours yet, so I just felt the need to vent bile so I will be my normal lovely self upon leaving this evening***.

*It involves a 276 page spreadsheet. I hate spreadsheets. Any job which involves a spreadsheet for any fucking reason is automatically annoying, a 276 page one can fuck right off. The fact that said aggravation is contained within an even larger badly written, legalese enburdened and technically incorrect document is just the shit flavoured icing on an already crap cake. Cunts.

**That 2' stilson wrench still lives next to my desk. If there's a really long break between this and the next post, well, it probably means the fuckwit's started whistling and I've finally snapped.

***Joy, I get to travel on the Hipster Express again. Maybe I'll see another bloke in jeggings and have a laughter induced coronary. I saw a bloke in Berwick St wearing jeggings and a stupid too small hat and did fear for my arteries. It was almost as good as when, sitting in my local cafe, and idly people watching, one of the Barleys from over the road, who was wearing his silly girls jeans round his arse gangsta style, ran across the road for a bus, only for his jeans to descend to his ankles as he ran, sending the silly twat flying, and making me gob my breakfast all over the window. Laugh? I nearly fucking choked. But it was a beautiful moment.