It was a cold stormy night. Almost Dickensian; poor working lass of almost-twenty-eight, toiled away late into the night alone in a fluorescent office on the 20th floor of the Rather-Large-Bank.
"I need to get the fuck out of here," I said to myself. It is completely sane to talk to oneself when no one is around.
"I need to have something to look forward to, " I elaborated.
"What did you want to do when you were a little girl?" I asked myself.
"Be a train conductor," myself said to I.
"What else?" I asked again, slightly disappointed at my first response.
"Go to Africa. That's it! I will go to AFRICA!!" And suddenly all was clear. I can shove the spreadsheet I was working on up someone else's arse (I mean, share drive) for a month and escape to the jungles.
"I need to get the fuck out of here," I said to myself. It is completely sane to talk to oneself when no one is around.
"I need to have something to look forward to, " I elaborated.
"What did you want to do when you were a little girl?" I asked myself.
"Be a train conductor," myself said to I.
"What else?" I asked again, slightly disappointed at my first response.
"Go to Africa. That's it! I will go to AFRICA!!" And suddenly all was clear. I can shove the spreadsheet I was working on up someone else's arse (I mean, share drive) for a month and escape to the jungles.
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