This is the low point. This is the point where funny becomes sad and irony melts to show a core of pure tragedy.
Things have taken a turn for the worse with mid-life crisis guy who now has a new nickname that rhymes with duckhead.
This could be my last entry about he who has the nickname that rhymes with duckhead. I’ve sent an SOS to my temp agency to please god get me out of here. Yet to hear back but I’m not losing faith just yet. Faith is all I have left.
We’ve stopped talking to each other or looking in each other’s direction. There are no more inappropriate and slightly weird comments. In fact there is nothing at all but silence. Lots and lots of silence. Silent withering looks to the back of heads, evil, evil thoughts, a need to either get out of here or slit my wrists. We’re past the point of no return. I only have an 80 minutes until I get to go home. I have no idea whether I’m going to make it. I have no idea if either one of us is going to come out of it alive. I fear the worst.
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