I Hate Thursdays

I got an email from my source within the NYPD that Fractula had hijacked an armored car on Broadway. So, naturally I had to use my lunch hour to clean up that mess. I hate Fractula. I hate his love affair with armored cars. I hate his stupid name. I hate him. "Fractula" It's a play on the word "fractal" in case you gave a shit. Mad scientists are the worst. They yap and yap and yap then blow some shit up. And they suck up my lunch hour. I was fifteen minutes late back to work. I had to make up some excuse about leaving my keys at Starbucks. I need to get a new temp agency. They have me at an ad agency making fucking pivot tables. I fucking hate pivot tables.

I was talking to Atomic Girl. She told how much she makes in a year, I almost crapped my pants.

Great my boss, just walked by and saw me typing in my blog. She gave me a look. I gave her a look back. My secret identity's probably blown, but screw it. I only have around $600 in the bank anyway.