Theater of Tragedy

These past two days were torturing indeed. I hate office-working. Actually, everytime I am at the office I´m hardly working. In fact my only solid effort in there is trying not to kill my damn noisy colleagues and maybe do one thing or two of the thousands I was supposed to be doing. It´s a room with, like, 30 young, pretty, scented and fucking nonstop talking girls and two very handsome guys - one of them is the "big boss". I´m not the oldest and sure ain´t much older than the average there, but I have this annoying impression that I´m not at a  working place, I´m at a fucking school full of teenagers that goes to the toilet in groups to talk about how sexy the teacher is.

But wait, it gets worse: my boss is sure cute, but so is the devil. Everytime he comes to me with that sweet look upon his face, I can hear his thoughts and I know he wants to fuck me - in the worse non-sexual meaning. On that business, they give you all the rope you want, so you can hang yourself at will. In practice, it works like that: they will delegate you a lot of responsabilities and make you feel important, but the first time you screw things up, you´re out. It´s challenging.

Just not as challenging as keeping my sanity living like that.