All I Ask is Bullshit in Moderation...

I'm going to maim someone. I hate working at understaffed companies. I hate executives. I hate them and their too-fucking-high salaries that cause the company to be understaffed.

You know how frustrated I am right now? Do you???

I just snapped every pen at my desk in half...I have...had...about 6 of them.

And then I have one of those squishy foam stress ball things...yeah, I destroyed it...tore it first by ripping a huge piece off with my teeth and then ripping it piece by piece from the inside with my hands.

I hate how retarded afdfasfastrkljaklegnsdm,fngfad............okay, I had to do that, it just sorta came in the middle of my thoughts that I needed to release more stress by pressing a whole bunch of keys.

I'm thinking of just asking my staffing agency to find me something else. But I don't know. I hate everything.

I had a dream this morning that Eric and I accidentally drove off a bridge into a river. And something else about travelling all over the place, trying to find something and not going the right way...so finally, we take a wrong turn and drive off a bridge into the river. I woke up before we hit the water, but I did feel the free-falling part.

I want to kill the motherfucker who invented the word "fiscal".

Is it lunch time yet? All I have are fucking Chef Boy'Ar...however it's fucking spelled...Chef B.......fuck it, I'm going to Wendy's and getting me a huge ass burger.

The salt orders can wait. So can the stupid insurance certificates.

I hate a nice dinner at Red Lobster yesterday, though:

Grilled Tilapia
Baked Potato
Veggies
Cheddar biscuits (freshly made, too)
Caesar salad

Those things are good.

Right now, everything else can go to hell.