Eight Hundred & Eighty Four

Theme: You are getting on my tits.

I feel so so ill. It's stress. I am ultimately stressed out. I'm sick of it. I couldn't even go into work today because I am just fully stressed. I keep getting all these aches and pains and vomiting. I'm not good. Sian is royally winding me up. I don't want to go to work. Again. I can't work with women. I just cannot do it. I am frantically trying to update my CV. I want out this badly. I'm sick of it. If work would chuck me down the other side of the building with the male client all day my year would be fucking made. I don't do female company. I'm making my CV so it is aimed at prison and mental health. I wouldn't want to do anything else. I want to go somewhere more organised. None of this pussy footing around. These are the rules and that's that, deal with it.

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