(no subject)

[bubosquared]

You are in the bedroom. It is dark. You are likely to be eaten by a grue. Possibly exits are NORTH and SOUTH.
> Grunt.
You grunt. Nothing happens. You become aware of traffic noises to the SOUTH.
> Get up.
With great difficulty, you throw off the covers and haul yourself out of bed. It is dark. You are likely to be eaten by a grue. Possibly exits are NORTH and SOUTH. There are traffic noises to the SOUTH.
> Go South.
You open the window and plummet to your death on the pavement ten feet below, causing a traffic jam as commuters slow down to gawk at your naked, bloody body.
Try again Y/N?
> Y
You are in the bedroom. It is dark. You are likely to be eaten by a grue. Possibly exits are NORTH and SOUTH.
> Get up.
With great difficulty, you throw off the covers and haul yourself out of bed. It is dark. You are likely to be eaten by a grue. Possibly exits are NORTH and SOUTH. There are traffic noises to the SOUTH.
> Switch light on.
You switch on the light, wincing as the sudden brightness hurts your eyes. When your vision clears somewhat, you find a pile of blurry clothes on a nearby chair-shaped blur.
> Get dressed.
You put on the clothes, managing to not get anything on inside-out or backwards. Must be a good day.
> Go North.
You are in the hallway. There is a fridge here. Possibly exits are NORTH, SOUTH, SOUTHWEST and WEST.
> Go SouthWest.
You are in the bathroom. There is a sink here. Possible exit is Northeast.
> Wash face.
You stick your head under the faucet. You feel marginally more awake, but now your hair is wet.
> Dry off.
You rub a towel across your face and hair. Your hair does a remarkably lifelike impression of a Tribble.
> Comb hair.
You drag a comb through your hair until it looks vaguely presentable.
> Go NorthEast.
You are in the hallway. There is a fridge here. Possibly exits are NORTH, SOUTH, SOUTHWEST and WEST.
> Go West.
You enter the living room. There is a computer-shaped blur here. There are other blurs as well, but you don't care about those. Possible exits are North, East and South.
> Switch computer on.
You switch the computer on. It starts making its usual "Whee, I'm on" noises.
> Go North.
You are in the kitchen. There is kitcheny stuff here. Possible exit is to the South.
>Make coffee.
You decide it's too early to make proper coffee, and settle for instant. Cold instant.
> Ew.
Oh, don't give me that, it's caffeine, you know you love it.
> Fuck off.
I can't do that, Dave.
> ...
Well, I'm a computer programme, I haven't got the parts, y'see ...
> Go. South.
Fine, fine, no need to get short with me. You are in the living room, yadda yadda yadda.
> Nuke coffee.
That's a bit harsh, innit?
> Oh, for--PUT COFFEE IN MICROWAVE AND SET IT TO ONE MINUTE!
You nuke the mug of cold instant coffee. It is now hot.
> Sit down at computer.
You plunk down in the chair in front of the computer desk. There is tobacco and other cigarette stuff here. There is a computer here. Possible exists would involve getting up again, and that's not an option right now.
> Roll cigarette.
You roll yourself a cigarette.
> Light cigarette.
You light the cigarette, from the right end even. Shaping up to be a very good day indeed. > Check e-mail.
You check your e-mail. You have 17 new messages. Most of them are LJ comment notifications.
> Read e-mail
You read your e-mail.
> Check LJ friendslist.
You check your friendslist. You experience a fleeting moment of envy whenever people mention things like having a life. The moment passes quickly.
> Play KoL.
You play Kingdom of Loathing for half an hour. By the end, you feel cheerful and awake. That might have more to do with the coffee than with KoL, though.
> Look at clock.
You look at the clock. It is 7:20.
> Fuck.
You have neither the time nor the partner necessary for that.
> Put on shoes.
You fumble around to find your boots, and fumble some more before managing to put them on.
> Put on necklace and piercing.
You spend another five minutes putting your labret back in and putting on your necklace.
> put on outerwear.
You put on your gloves, scarf, coat and hat, and are now wrapped up like a toddler on a snowday.
> Get bag.
You grab your bag, stubling under the weight.
> Go East.
You are in the hallway. There is a fridge here. Possibly exits are NORTH, SOUTH, SOUTHWEST and WEST.
> Go North.
You are in the stairwell. Possible exits are DOWN and UP.
> Go down.
You are in the street. You can see the bus stop across the street. it looks like your bus is just leaving.
> FUCK!
What, in public?
> Quit.
You quit A Day In The Life Of A call Centre Drone. Would you like to play a game of Thermonuclear War instead?

In other news, what is with all the people calling up to get documents/images/info from us the day before (or even of, and in one case after) a deadline? Dude, lack of planning on your part does not constitute an emergency on mine. Now stop calling me and wait for someone to call you back. And switch to decaf, jeez.

[ETA] I should be allowed to just hang the fuck up on anyone who mocks my accent. (Not, oddly enough, a UK call, but a Dutch person finding this whole "Aww, look at the Belgian, she thinks she can talk, like real people!" thing unbelievably hilarious, apparently. Fucker. Die in a gorram fire.[/ETA]

Comments

[daddi-cade.livejournal.com]

Fucking LOVE IT! made me laugh out loud for real. (I tend to think most people who LOL are actually only smiling, maybe.)

Brilliant. Thanks for that!

[bubosquared.livejournal.com]

Thank you, thank you, I'll be here all day. :D