Monday, January 10, 2005

Not so

Going back to work was not peaceful. Or restful. I think I need another holiday already.

And an extremely heavy frying pan.

I woke up to the Litter Tray From Hell. I probably don't need to elaborate.

So I cleaned it. Whilst I got their breakfast ready, the little bastards proceeded to refill the tray. How, I don't know, since it looked like all six had already shat out their entire body weight, but clearly they had saved some back just for me.

So I cleaned it again.

Then discovered the Baron had eaten most of the contents of the fridge and left the rubbish in out in the living room. With a forced smile on my face (determined to start the day off properly) I cleaned that up.

After that came sandwich making time. This would have gone better if the Baron had not left the bread open, as personally, I prefer not to have stale bread. Took a handful of fruit instead.

I finally left. And got stuck in a major traffic jam, caused by a melting warehouse. One and a half hours to travel three and a half miles.

I arrived, busting for the toilet.

That is when I found out the lift weren't working and I had to drag my arse up three flights of stairs. With my laptop and file bag. With no lights working on the stairwell.

I got to the top, thinking I would nip to the toilet before going in.

No such luck, as someone has put a fucking keypad on the toilet door, and I have no idea what the code is.

So I go in. Drop my stuff, get that damn code and run to the toilet.

Several meetings later (where no-one knows anything) I am left alone. With nothing to do, as people are assembling the paperwork I requested (requested several times over the past month).

And then it is time to go home.

Sat on the other side of the traffic jam. Get somewhat desperate for the toilet (my bladder is beyond pathetic)

The Baron stole my parking space so I had to drive out again to find one. Walked home in the rain. Couldn't see the keyhole as the arsehole hadn't turned the outside light on. Nearly broke my neck tripping over the post that he didn't pick up.

Cleaned the litter tray again. Fed the monsters, who are clearly starving to death and must therefore cry piteously whilst I spend all of ten seconds getting their food out of the cupboard.

And the clincher?

"What's wrong with you? You seem in a bad mood"

I'm going to fucking kill someone.

posted by DMouse007 @ 1/10/2005 06:01:00 PM