(no subject)
Today someone at work told me that there will be a round of firing next month, ordered from higher ranks and passing the bill of the economical crisis. I said I was glad to be gone by then, in an interactive office you can sense when it's time to fire and you can guess who it will be. Fire freely for all i care, in a month I will have collected enough to fuck off. Drinking vodka on my winter balcony and you know, I'm too retarded to make the sad graceful. I'd shoot silent sad eyes from my pony curtain fringe if i could but i cant. At work they discuss what tropical vacation resorts offer the most convenient service of ice cream in regards to the children and my teenage riot sadness takes another plunge.