Whilst the many of you wonder why do I still have the time to blog when I'm complaining how busy I am...
Cuz' I'm sick. GODDAMN SICK. Pissed off. Cheesed off.
(BUT, I've pretty much completed all those muther fucking work, which explains why am I here ranting my frustrations)
Am not sick sick. But the so-sick-of-all-these-shit kinda' sick.
Sick of work,
Sick of coughing non-stop,
Sick of customers calling and bugging me,
Sick of clearing everything that appears urgent,
Sick of the bloody intense life over here, at this country.
Some might be thinking, if my colleague can take the pressure, why am I whining over the minimal amount of workload I'm having right? WRONG. I don't fucking care. I'm weak, I know. I can't take stress. Especially work stress. I flare at the tiniest bit of work pressure. Poor colleagues. Many had been charcoaled by the fuming dragon over here.
Not feeling guilty to me venting my anger on them, as yet. Maybe when my workload starts easing. Not apologetic at this very moment. Will they even feel apologetic over me trying to rush as many documents as I can with only a pair of hands? Oh yes, I bet they are~ along with "can you do this for me, now?", "I need it immediately", "have you checked for me?", "So how huh?"
What-e-va...
Can'tchu see I'm struggling to get things done in order appease every single one of you living mammal?
Fuck lah, gimme a break can?
I'm like, rushing here and there, through and fro like a lunatic.
Oh, here comes more work for me. More amendments to what I've done. Easier said than done. Snapped of fingers and Callyn will get it done it no time cuz' its U-R-G-E-N-T.
FANTASTIC.
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