Muttered obscenities

I have been in a foul mood since I got back to this piss-face arse-crack of an office. These long weekends are all good and well while they last but then you have to come back to reality and that really, really, really sucks. Massively. Even the shorter working weeks aren’t helping as I thought they would, they still seem to drag. Never happy am I? I suppose 4 days of cack is better than 5 and I have yet another long weekend to look forward to this week. It’s like having a daily dose of the holiday blues though; perhaps I need to tone down the enjoyment factor at the weekend to compensate for the low on a Monday morning?

For some reason this week seems worse than normal, I think I am just uber fed up and without gossip or scandal or anything remotely interesting happening at work. Everything has become a chore and everyone is pissing me off. Everyone. Even Kirstie’s attempts to cheer me up “go on give me a little smile!” Er how about I give you a little kick? She means well but the good intentions are lost on me at the moment. I find myself cursing and swearing a lot under my breath and not so much under my breath at times. Simple tasks are winding me up and my fuse is so short it’s reached the point where Coyote is staring bug eyed at the ACME bomb Road Runner has just handed him as it fizzes away and inevitably blows him 30 miles off the cliff and into the path of a speeding train. It’s ridiculous, it’s completely unjustified and it’s irrational but damn it I don’t care.

Things that have pissed me off today:

The fact that I didn’t cycle into work so to avoid the forecast rain and it has so far been dry as a bone (my own stupid fault for trusting weather forecasters)

Waiting for Andre all day to do some poxy handover (she’s going on holiday AGAIN for a week and a half) of her work and knowing she’ll come over to see me at 4.55pm when I am about to leave.

The fact that I have been lumped with Andre’s work.

The French man who sat next to me all day stinking of really strong aftershave. Aftershave that actually worryingly smelt like perfume (well each to their own) and has burned through my sinuses, given me a headache and made me feel sick. It was so strong even Ginger who sits 4 people up from him smelt it.

That it is only Tuesday.

That it is currently only 15:56 and I wanted to go home 6 hours ago.

Being lumped with the netball organisation for tomorrow at 2pm today by the co-captain (she had to go to a wedding rehearsal – on a Tuesday?) who told me she was really short for players and then finding players and then being shouted at by people who she had promised could play but forgotten to tell me about or put on the players list.

Then having to stop WW3 amongst netball players and actually give my position up on the team so some stroppy South African kicking up a fuss can play instead.

The fact that the co-captain told me everything about her current life (wedding traumas, husband to be spending all the honeymoon cash, argument with Dad, anorexic sister…..keep going I’ll pretend I give a toss) but failed to tell me anything useful about the netball fixture.

That there is a distinct lack of cake in the office today.

I was hoping after yesterday’s day of rage it would subside and this morning did seem to feel a bit better but as the hours have worn on the rage has returned and frankly I’m ready to sharpen my wooden spoon…..

Kirstie keeps a bottle of Rescue Remedy on her desk that I might lace a chocolate éclair with.