I was off work for most of this week with muscles aches and a general, overwhelming sense of ennui. Nevertheless, the office politics managed to reach me at home, making for a rather pissy convalesence. What an incredible shit-show that place is. In fact, as I have mentioned to friends, it feels more and more like I am trapped in a sitcom that is a cross between Green Acres and The Facts of Life.
None of it is even really blogworthy, therefore not worth retelling here. Just trust me when I say I clearly work with a group of rural thundercunts who haven't grasped the fact that high schoo lis years past.
None of the politics are Teeth's fault, surprisingly. In fact, this week would have ordinarily been a good one, as she is on holidays. She has gone to join her husband hunting in the bush, which cannot fail to make me think of these two:
That's all, folks!
None of it is even really blogworthy, therefore not worth retelling here. Just trust me when I say I clearly work with a group of rural thundercunts who haven't grasped the fact that high schoo lis years past.
None of the politics are Teeth's fault, surprisingly. In fact, this week would have ordinarily been a good one, as she is on holidays. She has gone to join her husband hunting in the bush, which cannot fail to make me think of these two:
That's all, folks!
2 comments:
Maybe there will a tewibble accident. There are a couple solutions to the ennui. However, since they involve chocolate after running several hours, I won't be surprised if you pass on that.
The other thing to do is write a book. A very special book. In fact only one chapter of it, which "accidentally" gets left at work. It discusses, in graphic medical detail what happens to people (who happen to resemble at least a couple of your co-workers, or a person made up of the nasty bits of your co-workers) who are captured by space aliens. You know, the ones with the fetish for anal probes, and probably worse. Which is where your imagination comes in. The worse. Yeah, you know what I'm thinking.
Oh yuck, that sounds dreadful. November seems to bring on the vague and all-encompassing ailments.
Me, I just have Nanowrimo fail so far, which is characterised by the symptom of random web-surfing while forgetting what it was one wanted to look up.
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