So I work two jobs right, adding to a total of 13 hour days usually. Fun I know. The first job, which also takes the most amount of time, is the shitty brainless one where I question my will to live every, say two minutes. At the moment were making packs with that one, little samples of some fabric softener or some shit I dunno. Anyway it seems to be going to every single fucking household in New Zealand meaning it's a huge fucking job and miserable too. Spent many hours doing that. We've actually been doing it for about a week or so now.
Before moving on to my next job. This is the good one and it was okay today I suppose, aside from the fact that heaps of people are sick which means myself and the other healthy ones fill in for them. Today this involved covering an incredibly waffly and detailed program from Victoria, (Aus,) which I don't usually cover which incuded interviews with politicians to boot. Never fun seeing as it's election time in Australia and the cunts will not shut the fuck up AND like name dropping, (every single mention of other politicians and electorates have to be recorded and placed in context.) Anyway, it was a tough day and I almost missed my bus meaning I'd have to wait for the next one, getting me home a 11:30pm instead of 10:30pm
But I caught the bus and got home, feeling unusually pissy with the world. Got up to my room. Found that some smart-arse cunt put one of the very packs I've been spending hours upon hours creating on my pillow. Seems we got sent ours.
So I sort of exploded. I tore the thing up and hiffed it at my wall. Now I have fabric softener all over my wall.
Goodnight Bf2s.