Here's the blag entry I posted on my internal work blag yesterday:
Last night I was at the laundromat until 11:30pm. It's been raining a lot lately, we don't have a drier, and I like wearing clothes to work (preferably non-wet clothes). I was at the laundromat until 11:30pm because I had to wait for a herd of disgusting fat people to finish all their drying. I imagine they'd been saving it up for several weeks, planning to bring it in and occupy all the working driers just when I was about to come in, since they knew deep in their lumpy, congested heart-organs that I would have no choice but to stand there for an hour and a half waiting for them, when I should have been at home trying to recover some mental alacrity for the following two days of
Apparently willing someone a myocardial infarction doesn't work, no matter how detailed you visualise it. And things don't spontaneously burst into flames, even when you want them to, really, really hard. I really would have stepped over (well, around) the slowly-cooling mound of blubber and putrid flesh that had recently been the matriarch of the herd to use the damned drier, so I could get out of there and back to bed. Arbitrary, random hatred.
Instead I got to bed around midnight, and got woken about 6am, and slowly made my way to another, slightly more lethargic than yesterday, day at work.
Now we have a meeting with [the boss].