wow

I mean, I knew I had hostility towards my job, but I think re-reading a snippet of a letter I'm sending to a friend made me realize just how much. I mean, it starts out with a joke I always do, that isn't even mine (ryan came up with it) but the rest is all despair.

"Anyway, yeah, my life still sucks. I started crying today because I was at this orientation thing for a bunch of people applying for a posting at my workplace, and they all had more skills and knew more people than me and I feel like I'll never get out of my awful fucking job where people who think they're on hold and I can't hear them will say, "this girl talks like a retard," or say nearly as mean things to my face (so to speak). Still, they're the retarded ones. I know everything about them; they know nothing about me. When I finally snap, I'm going to drive to someone's home, leap at them like a spider monkey, and sing "like a good neighbor, I know where you live," to them over and over as I spread hooker entrails on their front lawn. "I heard you was havin' a barbecue, neighbor," I'll cackle gleefully as well. The coup de gras will be finding their kids and telling them that santa is really a hobo named "Oklahoma bill" who regularly sodomizes their mother... and father. Then I will give them a brief but graphic description to them of what sodomy is using one of the hooker corpses as a visual aid.