Don’t you just hate it when…

People engage you in meaningless discourse to allow others they have never met escape their just desserts.

Despite your best efforts, your supervisors are convinced that you’re idle.

You are micro managed down to how often you fart in the name of ‘efficiency’.

Oh hell. Back to the real, ugly, damp, miserable and seemingly pointless world of reality. Sometimes I just want to spit. Sometimes I would like to carry an electric cattle prod. It might make me feel a little better.