The Stress Fiend has barely stopped talking for the last two hours.
The disturbing thing about this is that only about fifteen minutes of that time has actually been spent talking to another person, and ten of those were spent torturing me by telling all about the show she watched last night about people who believe in government conspiracies about aliens. All the rest, or at least the parts I've been unable to tune out, have been spent arguing with emails (which would almost make a bit of sense if she had some kind dictation software installed, but she doesn't), muttering angrily and inarticulately in response to largely unseen stimuli, and occasionally cackling vindictively and swearing vengeance on unidentified clients or workmates. Sometimes she'll repeat information to herself in a strange, sing-song voice as she works.
In an earlier age, she'd have been burnt as a witch or chained to the walls of a madhouse.
This isn't really that unusual, I suppose, but my Stress Fiend Tolerance Threshold seems to have been a bit low lately.
No comments:
Post a Comment