People I work with are annoying. I know that people are bound to be annoying when you're forced to spend 40 hours with people not of your own choosing. Hell, people get annoying when they are of your own choosing.
But, Jesus Christ, go out in the hallway to discuss which brand of baby food your wife should buy and argue about what size entertainment center y'all need. Take your cell phone and stand in the lobby when you call Disneyland for the seventh time this month to discuss their breakfast options and whether they can reduce the prices if you don't eat breakfast on the fifth and sixth mornings of your stay.
Yes, we're a music publishing company. Yes, they give us all stereos for our desks and even encourage us to wire the speakers up to our computers so that we can listen to our iTunes. But for fuck's sake, if you don't have a recording contract, I don't want to listen to you sing. Or hum. Or whistle. I know the allure. I am a born singer with a terrible voice. That's why I bottle it up and save it for the ride home. And don't fucking giggle at your talk radio programs. I hate your chuckle/giggle/snicker. Almost as much as I hate you. Okay, not all of you. Just a few. Some days I can take it. Today is not one of them.
It's going to be a long, effing day.
Someone needs a vacation, ya think?
*sorry, grandpa, this one was cuss-tastic.
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2 comments:
hang in there chester! weekend will be here soon!
today was such a stab day.
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