Just as I pulled into work this morning, "Head Like a Hole" came on my radio. I got all head-bangy and cranked that junk waayyyy up, and rolled down my windows, and screamed out the lyrics with Trent.
Especially poignant since I was parked in front of the building. In front of the office of the company president.
He wasn't there, of course, his Lexus doesn't pull in til 10 a.m.
"Head like a hole!"
"Black as your soul!"
"I'd rather die!"
"Then give you control!"
Felt pretty damn good, I must say. I walked into work like Tony What-his-ass in 'Saturday Night Fever', all cocky and angry and feeling like I shoulda wore all black like back in my angry-alll-black days.
And then the day just took on blacker tones as the day progressed.
Which was what I thought would happen.
Toooo busy, too many people trying to fuck with my head, too many whiners, I just wanna take 'em out back and tie 'em to the railroad tracks and see if they squish flat like those pennies we used to put on the rails.
Yup. Guess they do.
After the second day in a row of working on stupid useless projects, I had to do a spreadsheet of all the stuff I did, who for, what I did, why, and how much time it took.
So I spent 16 hours over two days working on insanity.
And 2 hours writing up what I did.
Does that make ANY fucking sense?
"Bow down before the one you serve."
"You're gonna get what you deserve."