Work bo-bo

i feel like a secret agent with a very redundent mission.
im blogging @ work
which means im being very inefficient doing something very unproductive.
as always.
it took me a good 20 minutes to finally drag myself outta bed today.
10 minutes was spent contemplating calling in sick.
5 minutes spent thinking what to tell the doc to get an mc.
the other 5 was just spent staring into spcae.
they shouldn't have given us a lousy 1-day break for christmas.
work 1 day break 1 day then work again.
so hazardous to your sanity.
its like popping pills only to have yourself choke on em and do nothing but continue being miserable with your life.
and no i'm not bitter or anything
was just trying to be creatively metaphoric.
which i failed at i know i know.
vagina (pls pls do not be reading this) has decided that my name is now Babe.
after the initial what the fuck response
im kicking myself for having the stupid impulse to let it pass by
i just dont have the guts to say to her face my name is not fucking babe or fucking dude.
and no i am NOT your gal.
sheesh.
and i tried i really really tried to restarin from this but oh my bloody god why do u have my grandma's black table cloth on?
malaysia should have a "do not visually or audio torture your collegues poilicy"
its not wrong to put some thoughts in what is PROPER to wear to the offie.
its not
its really not
i hate you for giving me so much work today and making me regret not going with the i ate bad nasi lemak for breakfast excuse to the doc.
i wish i was at home on my bed instead of having to endure your evil evil black table cloth swishing and swooshing past me.
boooooooo