Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

My throat is slightly sore, my stress level has passed its boiling point, I want to go home. I actually am going to go home in a few minutes, if this package is ever looked at. I've already voiced my "go-home intentions" VERY strongly to the majority of employees here, up to and including my boss.

I need to go home. I need soup, my book, and rest. I need to have no stress for five minutes. I'm cracking, and I know this, because my eyes keep watering. I am not in the physical and mental state to deal with all the bullshit today, all the bullshit that I can usually take in stride and incorporate into my daily dance.

Not today. I'm going home.

-Barbarella

previous | next