At work.
It is raining septic water and my boss is more concerned by the fact I stayed ten minutes over my shift.
Seriously.
Fuckwit Tom called head office on us.
Eat dick, asshole. We slave to your wishes all fucking day every day and you report us for having “a dirty store, poor service, terrible music, and poor food delivery times”? Fuck you so hard. Now, thanks to you, we get to listen to terrible music all day and all night: smooth weirdo jazz.
I hate you so much.
It’s a gentle day outside.
Humid and starting to rain. Lots of baby birds around. Whispery trees.
Will have to go for another walk once my session is over. Can’t feel bad surrounded by this stuff.
1 day ago on 25 May
2012 @ 10:47am
Michael decided it would be appropriate to shit on the floor.
For no reason, since, you know, the litterbox is newly clean and still completely accessible/in the same place it has been since the beginning of time. I only noticed it was there as he was attempting to bury it (sweeping around it with his paw… on bare linoleum). He succeeded once he carried my headband over and piled it on top of his smeared greenish shit. Awesome. Thanks.
I pulled him over by his scruff and (not so gently) put his nose up to it. “YOU DID THIS. WHY. WHY DID YOU DO THIS? POO!”
He’s being extra humble and polite now, but there’s still poop on the floor. Sigh.
