This office

is where the human spirit comes to DIE.

As the full effect of western wanker banker depravities creep its way to wreak havoc in the east, the number of resignations being tendered in these offices have continued as it did during the boom times. These guys haven't even secured a landing site for after. They're middle-income mere mortals who'd prefer to risk unemployment and impecuniosity than to continue shuffling about in the shit bogs that define my occupational existence. On average, it only takes three months for this place to KILL YOU.

On a separate matter, though I feel really bad complaining about this because maybe the cause is physiological as much as it is habitual, but what is up with my newest colleague who constantly sounds as if he's desperately trying to breathe through a wet piece of sack cloth??? I can usually recognise a colleague by the sound of his or her footsteps, but I know this particular dude is walking down my corridor because I can hear him attempting to inhale through the narrow cavity above his mucus-gorged mandible. (I've already learnt not to get any closer than four feet within distance of him to avoid motile flecks of spit that frequently accompany his speech.) I've been victim to an overactive sinus before and know what it's like to barely be able to breathe through my nose, so I can't fault him for that. But surely he can do something about the saliva situation???

Or does it have something to do with his (pitiably severe) psoriasis? I don't want to get started on that, only because I'm certain that that's something he can't control (although he could try to avoid scratching himself so vigorously in the vicinity of other people...). Fortunately (for me) he hasn't blown me away with a sterling character or fascinating personality, or else I'd have to fool myself into not noticing the repugnance that he provokes. I have at least the freedom to embrace the feeling of pure disgust for now, though I worry about how that feeling may eventually manifest itself.


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