Like, omigod, it's a post!

Oh, wow, I haven't posted in about a week? Whups. Hi!

Heh. I've been good, busy, and you? Ha. No, seriously, busy. Yeah, well, here I be now.

I'm about to bail for bed, though. It's been a long week. What do you mean it's only Monday? Goddamn it.

Call it an antipodean week.

So, work, eh? We had this flood, oh, I don't know, months ago when a wanker tenant above decided it'd be fun to adjust essential plumbing when he was moving out. Like piping's something you're supposed to take with you. "But I attached it."

Really? You're THAT stupid? What, did the state sponsor a lobotomy for your 10th birthday or something? Eugenics gone awry again? Fucking twit.

The laminate flooring all got damaged. (Thanks for filling the landfill, FUCKWIT. Enjoy your pipe.)

The floor's now is all pulled up for a flooring job... well, most of the laminate is pulled up. My office is a mess of concrete, dust, and general disarray.

You see, we have some of those classic labourers who don't seem to wish to labour.

I'm not going into details other than to say that these guys, when pouring the concrete to level shit out, managed to pour it into all the taped-off power outlets. You have no idea. And they're not even done levelling yet. And it's been a month. It's a 2,000 square-foot office.

The contractor says, "Well, I warned you there'd be complications--"

Complications? That's not a complication, that's incompetence!

Friggin' idiots. "Bob, make sure you get it in the junction box, too."

Yeah, showing up at work was fun. Real fun. Every Monday is another excited-apprehensive moment. "Did they do anything? Is it better? Will I stop inhaling concrete dust at long last?"

This is week four. They've done nothing but fuck shit up.

I lament the passing of the work ethic. Clearly its time is nigh if these fuckwits are the standardbearers. (Please tell me they're not?)

Some of us still try to do good work. Pity about the fuckwits.