Can we go home now?

Don't worry, I am not skiving off on work time; I am typing this on my break. The subject sums it all up pretty much. I have been in a filthy mood and I am not sure how to improve it. It was going OK until that stupid mutt just about ran me over other night. There was I, crossing Stuart St. For once I was not jaywalking and the green light was urging me on, Go for it! Go for it! But this impatient slag in a late model sedan talking on the cell phone just drove round the corner anyway and nearly hit me. At first I was prepared to launch into martyr phase. 'I wish she had hit me, that would have taught her...' But it woudln't have taught her anything because we are probably looking at a self-entitled soccer mom with special needs. She would have cursed me for making her spend an extra 30 minutes on Saturday trying to get the kids to hose off debris from the wheels. No doubt they are trolls as well, so a lot of screaming would be involved.
Next phase, wishing I had a brick, a baseball bat, anything to smash the car up. That's an impulse I have had a lot lately, I really must find some outlet for my anger & aggression or the dishes are going to get it. The council could sponser a shooting range since a lot of my problems come from working there. I find myself counting down the months, can I resign yet? can I resign yet? Though what the hell I would do otherwise I don't know. Plow into another mire probably, at least one that didn't involve processing and shelving I guess. There are hitherto unchartered horrors in any job I suppose.
Someone I am acquainted with just got a job at McRaes mines, as an admin assisstant. $20 an hour. Maybe that is what we all ought to be doing? I would have to fight back the urge to make Brrm brrm noises all the time though.