Hah. My job is trying to kill me but I elude death once again, for I am made of stern stuff. I fear no workload no matter how overwhelming. Short-staffed, underpaid and over-caffeinated, I’m taking on all callers like Jack Johnson.
Bring on the criminal youth clients who are caught masturbating over the body of a small cat that they just finished mutilating and then set on fire, throw your dysfunctional families or desperate immigrants fleeing death squads into the mix. It’s all under control. Deadlines? All I need is a day to work my magic you bastards. One day.
I spit my broken teeth into your eye and shout “is that the best you’ve got?” There’s no stopping me.
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