of fuck you.

Apparently I can’t even stick to self-imposed tumblr deadlines, so any career in “journalism” is probably off the list for now.

Also I wanted to see if anyone would think I was dead. They didn’t. Nobody cared.

Tumblr silence was mainly due to the fact that I decided drinking heavily would be a good way to break up the monotony of 22 consecutive shifts.

So now I’m in medias res, halfway through the struggle, and my sense of self has taken a severe pounding, the repetitive nature of my work reducing me to an automated telephonic menu system powered by coffee and cigarettes.

In other news, an awesome co-worker arranged a night of celebration to mark the end of my indentured servitude, to which many people have at least clicked “attending” on facebook, so y’know. Ten more days of work, followed by four straight days of drinking, then back to the alma mater for some half-assed honours work. It could be worse.