Even More Pissing and Moaning

Today is one of those days where it's a damn good thing no one ever gave me the flame thrower I've been begging for for years.

I have PMS. RAGING PMS. I've had homicidal thoughts about quite a few people today.

I know! I'll make a list!

People I've wanted to kill today:

-My retarded monkey of an office manager (aka Bitch From Hell). But that's nothing new.

-The guy who is doing the program revisions for a very important program we use EVERY DAY at work. The more he "fixes," the more things get fucked up. Then he has the NERVE to charge us for every single time we call him to let him know what else is screwed up, and then for the time he spends fixing that problem/breaking something else. Does he not realize that the way it works is that if he fucks something up, he's the one that should fix it? And NOT charge us an arm and a leg for it? We shouldn't have to pay extra because the man doesn't know what the hell he's doing. Each day that goes by makes me think that just killing him would be the best solution to our program problems.

-The people who work at the Arby's I went to for lunch today. I was in the freaking drive through for 20 fucking minutes. I think they may have been slaughtering their own cows in there or something. That would be a good reason for taking so long. The fact that they're incompetent is a shittier reason, but still acceptable. I now realize how much I enjoy bringing my own lunches to work, and waiting 10 minutes while our piece-of-shit microwave cooks it. At least I can watch t.v. while I'm nuking something.

-My Know-It-All co-worker, who is walking around shaking the keys on his key ring. There is no reason for it. *jingle, jingle, jingle* *jingle, jingle, jingle* *jingle, jingle, jingle* Why, God, why? Grr...

The fact that my left eye feels like someone is poking it with a sharp stick doesn't really help, either. I have yet to figure out if it's my eye that actually hurts, or if I have a headache behind my eye. I don't know. All I know is that it's making me cranky with an extra order of bitch sauce. And that added to PMS, equals a scary, scary me.

Hey! I'm reminded of a song... "If you see me coming/ better step aside/ A lot of men didn't/ A lot of men died." Ha ha!