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Life sucks. Work sucks. Yes I’m unhappy and NO I’m not ok. I don’t feel like telling you what’s wrong. I’ll tell you what’s wrong when I tell you what’s wrong. Don’t sms me or call me to ask me what’s wrong. I’ll tell you in good time. I just wish that women were not such bitches and that if you think I’ve made a mistake, TELL IT TO MY F&*(KING FACE instead of gossiping among yourselves and then telling it to my boss. NOT FRIENDLY! AND READ YOUR FREAKING EMAILS. YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO BE FREAKING READING THEM. SINCE YOU’RE SO “DETAILED”…DO YOU EVER FREAKING REALISE HOW LATE SOME OF MY FREAKING EMAILS ARE SENT?

*breathes in, breathes out*
*thinks* Yes there are people starving out there…yes there are innocent people whose lives are being held hostage. No big deal…this is no big deal……
*breathes in, breathes out*

Work still sucks.

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