GBCW

Weeping! Wailing! Gnashing of teeth!

I have lost everything! Employment opportunities! Friends! Pantyhose!

I suffer in an agony foisted upon me by enemy shamans! Scottish African German and American shamans have brought me to a level of woe that cannot even be addressed by Tilex! Indeed, the very POWAH of CHEESE is ineffective before their mighty wrath!

Not only this, but the Vengeance(tm) of psychotic stalker exes and their Brotherhood has once again been manifested in my life! I am out three hours and a pair of pantyhose and I have no idea how I will ever recover from this trauma!

Clearly I should never have been so fucking lazy as to keep getting out of bed with a ruptured L5 vertebrae to take my 2.5 hour ride into the city for the exalted honor of carrying forty pound system backplanes in high heels for sexist Wall Street fucktards. The mere nerve of me to expect reward and praise (not to mention equal pay) for doing the right thing, I mean, really! I should have been home baking cookies for my man. Obviously I just don’t have the right stuff and never did. My four page resume is mere cotton candy. Oh, and I’m fat and over forty in a world where eye candy MATTERS. Well, ok, it matters to someone, I guess.

See, my problem isn’t that I was sitting in the same room with the entire New York City Sun Microsystems office when, as part of our orientation meeting for the move into our new offices in the World Trade Center, they played this movie clip.

My problem is that when I was sitting in another room with the same people in October 2001 in a hotel in New Jersey, listening to them cry and vent about the stuff they experienced during the 9/11 attack, I remembered that they showed this clip when we moved into the World Trade Center, and I was very tempted to stand up and scream at the top of my lungs, “FUCK YOU! GO HOME AND PLAY WITH YOUR KIDS!” to see if any of them remembered too.

Yeah. I guess that’s my problem.

And even worse… domestic spying continues apace, and I am made to hear the taunts of those who are (*ahem*) “competent” in that strange, secretive and sticky-handed existence through LOLCATS messages and the SCA Livejournal community!

But here’s what’s worst of all: for all their comparative (*coughahem*) competence, respectability, political correctness, good looks and (*coughahem*) “clean” hands, it would seem that none of my… hmmm, what should I refer to them as – compatriots? Co-workers? Cow-orkers? None of those People Who Are So Much Fucking Better Than I Am At Everything In Life(tm) can seem to actually SOLVE the problems of the creeping fascism, warrantless wiretapping, accountability for the Bush administration, restoration of Constitutional values, the looting of the Treasury, the spazzing economy, global warming, world hunger, or AIDS.

Oh, and we’re out of beer.

Alas! My life is clearly over. I have no reason to exist. I must flee or kill myself. Probably both. I’m not sure in which order. At least I will be in good company, I am sure my ghost will have some excellent conversations with Alan Turing.

Goodbye, cruel world.