I hate drama!

Do you ever get so mad that you just want to bite something? I know that doesn’t make any sense, but I’m just frustrated, want to scream, want to throw food, want to kick and scratch and bite, want to hop up and down, shake my fists, and just throw a fit.

In the end, what I’ll probably end up doing is crying, which just bites.

On a more positive note, it’s going to be a fun weekend. More Aggrolites. Some Los Hooligans. Some Monkey. Friends. Yay!

And when I’m dancing, none of this will matter.

At least it’s Friday

I am at work, and I am incredibly bored. I finished all the work I have to do for the rest of this week, but I still have to be here, and I still have to look busy. So I’m sitting here, typing all of this blog entry into a word document, so as to avoid detection. You see, even though I hustled, and completed all of my assignments ahead of schedule, my company doesn’t really believe in rewarding that. So, if you finish early, you’re not allowed to sit at your desk, and quietly surf the internet, like you might be able to do at other places, like I have been able to do at other companies. Don’t get me wrong. There are perks to working here. We have a total pub culture going here. Half of our clients are beers, like Newcastle, Corona, and Guinness. We have a frig full of beer, and come 3:30, I’ll be having one, but in the meantime . . .

So, if you know me, you already know that I am prone to do the dialing under the influence. (If you didn’t know that, you do now.) Usually I am more than willing to be on the receiving end, as well. Fair is fair. Chances are, if I have your phone number, then you’ll get a call from me at some point, so I don’t feel justified complaining if you return the favor. However, I’m not too happy about the three phone calls I’ve gotten this morning. It’s one thing to call at 1 on Friday night/Saturday morning, but to call me at 6 in the morning on Friday, when I still have one more day of work before my weekend starts, and then to keep calling back and laughing in my face, because I have to work, and you’re in Vegas and have been up playing poker all night, well that’s a completely different story. There’s nothing cute about it. So, drunk dialer, you know who you are, and you can go to Hades.

How many more hours until the weekend starts? Too many. Way too many. I could easily see myself drinking entirely too much coffee today, purely out of boredom. Oh, and I’m going out tonight, but not until later, so I’ll probably be chilling around SF, waiting for my friends to get here, with nothing to do, and tired, tired, tired.

Waaa. I need to stop being so whiney.