Ok. I've been working seven days a week now since the middle of September, with only one day off where I wasn't sick as a dog. I haven't really bitched to much about it here but I'm tired.
But... But there's one guy I work with I like a whole lot. I guess you could say he's my best friend here in Clewiston. But every time he opens his mouth for the last three fucking months all I fucking hear is how fucking tired he is... How he didn't get to spend Christmas eve with his family because he had to work...
How sick of all the work he does...
And because he's my friend I've bit my tongue... Kept silent but I'm really not sure how much longer I'll last without a monumental explosion of biblical proportions. I'm going to erupt at some point in the near future and tell him this:
"You know what pal? We're ALL FUCKING tired. Here's a little fucking news-flash for you... We're all working the same fucking hours you are. And you didn't get to spend Christmas Eve with your family? Big Fucking Deal. I haven't seen MY FUCKING FAMILY for three FUCKING YEARS! Fucking DEAL with it! Life's fucking tough... Buy a fucking helmet. You've got free housing, an absurdly good salary and all's you've got to do is complain and fucking whine? We're all as tired as you and you're the only one who's bitching? Do your fucking job and SHUT THE FUCK UP ALREADY!!!!!!!
Ok. I vented my spleen.
I'm feeling much better now. You can now all return to what you were all doing.
Copyright 2007 Thomas J Wolfenden