What Kind Of Day It Has Been
In a word, long.
In a couple of words, fucking long.
In three words, one of them comically elongated, unbelievably fucking loooooooooong.
I know that nobody who reads ZFS! really cares about my job (hell, I barely care about my job), so I'll spare you all the gory details of what, specifically, I had to put up with today. Let's just say it involved...
-a mountain of invoices roughly the same size and shape of the mountain sculpture that Richard Dreyfuss builds in his living room in Close Encounters of the Third Kind.
-Numerous phone calls from people all over the world who really could benefit from a few classes at the Sylvan Learning Center and/or a fistful of prescription drugs.
-a headache that started at the base of my neck, worked it's way up the back of my head to my temples, and then proceeded to perform an extended routine inspired by, but not strictly taken from, the Off Broadway sensation Stomp.
-the aftermath of my own lazy incompetence, which always adds that particular spice known as "God, I Hate Myself" to any given Tuesday.
-Hitler. Yep. Hitler. He's back and he's got an army of blond, Teutonic zombies with him. S'cool, though... between the invoices and the phone calls and the headache and my own incompetence, I managed to squeeze in some time to beat back his forces of darkness and banish him to the Phantom Zone, just like I did with General Zod. Don't thank me now, though; Hitler will be back, I'm sure, for a series of exciting sequels and Burger King tie-ins.
Anyway, regular shenanigans should resume tomorrow. Unless everything goes all bughouse again. Then who knows. But that's okay... this blog could use a healthy shot of unpredictability, no?
In a couple of words, fucking long.
In three words, one of them comically elongated, unbelievably fucking loooooooooong.
I know that nobody who reads ZFS! really cares about my job (hell, I barely care about my job), so I'll spare you all the gory details of what, specifically, I had to put up with today. Let's just say it involved...
-a mountain of invoices roughly the same size and shape of the mountain sculpture that Richard Dreyfuss builds in his living room in Close Encounters of the Third Kind.
-Numerous phone calls from people all over the world who really could benefit from a few classes at the Sylvan Learning Center and/or a fistful of prescription drugs.
-a headache that started at the base of my neck, worked it's way up the back of my head to my temples, and then proceeded to perform an extended routine inspired by, but not strictly taken from, the Off Broadway sensation Stomp.
-the aftermath of my own lazy incompetence, which always adds that particular spice known as "God, I Hate Myself" to any given Tuesday.
-Hitler. Yep. Hitler. He's back and he's got an army of blond, Teutonic zombies with him. S'cool, though... between the invoices and the phone calls and the headache and my own incompetence, I managed to squeeze in some time to beat back his forces of darkness and banish him to the Phantom Zone, just like I did with General Zod. Don't thank me now, though; Hitler will be back, I'm sure, for a series of exciting sequels and Burger King tie-ins.
Anyway, regular shenanigans should resume tomorrow. Unless everything goes all bughouse again. Then who knows. But that's okay... this blog could use a healthy shot of unpredictability, no?
posted by Clinton at 11:40 PM
1 Comments:
See there is your problem; you don’t thing the situation through all the time. After defeating Hitler and his zombies you should have had them finish your work as punishment while you sat back and sipped red wine just in case they tried to act up or make an escape. Your headache would have been gone; you would have someone else doing your work for free while you got paid. Granted the day might have felt longer because watching Zombies do invoices cannot be very fun but hey it would have been worth it.
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