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Personal Office Space

Have quasi-successfully managed to avoid the the two new ladies in my life by being a weirdo both at home and at work. The office lady does not particularly respect my efforts, though. I'll be standing at the "there is no toner only Zuul" printer waiting the full 5 months for a PDF when she lumbers up and hovers inches from me as if her document is going to print anytime this fiscal year. I crack a pained smile and step to the left where she follows. I can feel my lip curl as she breathes heavily on my exposed shoulder. I try again to edge away from the beast before I lose all my shit and snatch the one page that's printed and storm back to my cube.

Since this incident, I've strapped a rubber band to my wrist and snap it violently when I get the feeling I want to attack new ladies (or old) with a broken bottle of nearby store brand vodka that I (also) feel like relapsing on.

This morning I was late due to an inability to drag my ass out bed, and Jesus Guy's response was to glare at me with the look of a crazed abusive husband and hiss, "YOU'RE HALF AN HOUR LATE" when I said good morning. How does that affect you, Jesus Guy? Pretty sure it doesn't, so calm your titties. You wanna lose your shit on someone, do it to mouth breather over by the printer.