Right about now, I should be a good little drone and be hard at work. But I'm not. No, I'm sitting in my little 'not-a-cubicle' listening to my 'friendly' (read:dumbass) co-workers jibba-jabba. One of them, I know she's really trying, (from now on to be refered to as Harpy) but DAMN! A truckload of bricks would do a better job than her sometimes. BRICKS I tell you! Quitting time can not get here soon enough.

Sometimes I believe the best skill that prepared me most for my job is creative writing. I lie SO much to our customer, a major retail outlet. GAH! Will the cacophonus wailings from the Harpy ever end?! I have never in my life heard so many inane statements, questions, and mindless blather spew from one single individual. Her very voice is a reason I'm looking into one of them frontal lobotomy do-it-yourself kits.

Oh, some of our field engineers have got to be the biggest bunch of whiney ass bastards. *BOO-HOO-HOO* I have a call. That means I have to work! Things like this make me want to invent a device that will punch people in the face through their phone.