Glass Half Fucking Bastard

I wish I could say I have PMS today and that's why I feel so cunty.

Blame it on my bad crab cake sandwich; the days I don't enjoy my lunch are horrible days indeed. Why does a bad lunch seem to always ruin a perfectly good day?

I have officially had it with my job - I just don't care anymore and there's no point in trying since it's kind of a joke.

For the most part, the people have either they have been here for 20 years and will never get another job anywhere else; or they don't care about a career and are just plodding along.

Needless to say, I'm a completely uninspired and disgruntled worker DELUXE.

Not only do I have no desire to be here, I don't have the energy to pretend that I do.

It's a sorry state of affairs, really.

This is what corporate America will do to you.

Thankfully I don't define myself by my job, so I'm only completely Les Miz when I'm here.

As soon as I leave I feel myself getting back to myself.

This place puts me in such a bad mood I don't even want to drink.

I'm also completely over living in New York. Don't you ever get sick of people being up your ass all the time???

Here, you'll see a picture of me trying to make my way to get lunch.

Here's something I never thought I would say: I can't WAIT to move (in accordance with the prophecy).

$@bs