Does Anybody Like the Job They do?

Back to work, tum di dah. It is such a waste of time, bum di dum. Working for the man, working for the machine, er, ah, oh.

Does anybody like the job they do? I know that I don't, not really. And it is not that I hate it, as such, it is just that it means nothing, achieves nothing, advances the world not a whit. It just makes a few high up execs rich, nothing much else.

I'm spending the next is 3 weeks in Richmond, helping out an existing finance team... Tuesday, once my few days in the CBD are finished.

Thank you Jack.
Kill me now.

Still, I guess, it puts food in red dog's bowl, (okay, technically, he is a red and white dog) gets me new knickers to wear and allows me the odd BreadTop bun, (odd bun, ha ha) (green tea cream buns, I recommend them) there is no denying. So, I guess, I shouldn't complain.

Sam calls me a big whiny pants... quiet often. Very often. I object to the slur, naturally. Who does he think he is? The other thing he says is, you must follow my orders. He says that a lot. He justifies it by saying he is the wise one and that I am the lazy self indulgent arse. Me? I tell him that I am lovely but, of course, he is much lovelier than I will ever be. We both know that. Sam is just naturally sweet. Handsome and sweet.

Now Sam in his undies eating green tea buns, with cream dripping down his chin and onto his chest, patting red dog... that's what I like to see.

Anyway... shake of the head...

... it is back to work tomorrow, yay.