Week 3 - Broken microwaveYou sit at your desk all morning trying to find a reason to go on. The one thing you have to look forward to is lunchtime - heating up some crappy pot of tasteless pre-cooked bollocks. It's not much, but it's just enough to keep you from a repeat prescription of anti-depressants for one more day. But now those days are gone, because store me in a cool dry place and spank my ass with a cheap plastic fork if some bastard hasn't shafted the only functioning microwave in the building.
Screw you all - I'm going home.
