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Thursday, November 17, 2005

shut the fuck up

It’s too fucking early in the morning to be at work. I’ve been here for an eternity, and it’s not even 9 yet. By eternity, I mean 45 minutes. Yes, I’m being overly dramatic here, but it’s early, k? get off me.

So what’s my point?

My point’s that the person in the next cube’s been on her cell the whole time, speaking her native tongue. Loudly. On her cell phone. In a fucking foreign language.

And I’m stuck here, having to listen to it. I think I’ve found the brunt of all my office hostilities. Yay. Normally, I’d tell her to shut the fuck up, but then it’s only my second month here, and I need the job to support my crack habit. So I sit here, trying to get into my zen state (no, I don’t really fucking meditate) to no avail. I just keep grinding my teeth and hope that a meteor falls on me (or her) soon.

Oh, and she stinks too.
More than I do.



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