This day was like being steeped in a lake of fire in hell. Retail, holidays, flailing management and useless temp hires who think 'temp hire' means come in to work when your lazy ass feels like it--or quit on a dime when you realize that the job involves more than walking around saying "May I help you?" all conspire to make you feel like you'd be justified in flipping a table and screaming "GET OUT, GET THE FUCK OUT, OUT, OUT!! AND TAKE YOUR FUCKING SCREAMING KIDS WITH YOU!!!!" Fa-la-la.
So how's by you?
Also, I will come to your house and clean your windows, wax your floors, whatever it is that cleaning house involves (I'm sure more than what I do: squint at the place and murmur reflectively, "gotdamn, somebody should clean this shit.") if you can get me to write. I waaaaaaaant to, it's just everything in the world keeps me from doing what I want to do. *unhappy sigh* I want to work on my BB, my PE, my slave fic....poop. Oh well. Que Sera Sera an' stuff.