stressed

It's been one of those days. One of THOSE days. ONE OF THOSE DAYS!!!
A day where you walk into work and it seems it's all against you. The puddle by the entrance door is huge so you can only get your feet wet. The door won't open properly, it's stuck because the woods all wet from the rain. You trip on the mat in the hallway that's there to help mop up the water and mud from hundreds of feet tracking in and out all day. You slam your hand into the wall to stop from falling and break a finger, sprain your wrist but you can't afford to go home so a couple of plasters later and you're up and running (or limping).
You hang your coat up and it falls off the peg or, on second try, the peg breaks. You stuff your coat into your locker where you know it'll be creased to hell later. Or at least it would be if you had your locker key with you, which you haven't. You find a peg to hang it on that will stay put, finally. Off you go for a quick cuppa in the canteen but what a shame you only have one 20p piece and that just WON'T go into the bloody machine! Then you drop it and it rolls off under the machine that you've decided you don't want a putrid cup of pee out of anyway now. The buzzer goes to start work, off you amble, feeling a bit on the low side. It's 4 minutes past the witching hour when you realise you haven't clocked in! They give you three minutes grace but their clock is set to a slightly different time to the rest of the world!
You've just lost 15 minutes pay!! You clock in and off you go, sighing deeply, shoulders drooping.
At your workplace, scattered all over the table are chocolate wrappers. How unfair is that! A quick blast of choccy craving shoots through you but you get over it pretty quick as you realise the previous occupants of your area have left it like a tip. Rubbish on the floor because all the bins are full. You wonder how 3 people can fill 4 very large bins in 8 hours! Must be all the sweetie wrappers in there! Work everywhere, in little piles of different things to sort out and sort out the jobs too as they're mixed up.
2 hours later you've finished. Cleaning up that is. Straightening the chaos. Lining up what needs to be done where it's to be done. You finally begin but your machine's stone dead. Broken. Is there an engineer handy? Nope, they're trying to better the other areas of decay in this hateful place.
I know!! It's not the attitude to have but after 14 years I think I'm allowed a little mouthing off. I always say, the money is ok, the work isn't that hard, the health and safety is questionable but over all it's not a bad place. Except for today.
Today I'm going to find my lunch is out of date, I have no more change for the putrid drinks machine from hell, my supervisor is going to tell me off for not working hard enough and for apparently chatting when I was chasing up some info on a job, the management is going to want me to cancel my holiday because it falls on the week we have urgent work coming through, it's going to be pouring down with rain all day so that when I go out I will have to step in the big puddle again, the stuff I need to put our product together is also out in the rain waiting to be forklifted in from the warehouse, the driver is off sick and the other one is busy (drinking coffee from his beloved putrid-o-matic), when it does come in, if it's not too wet it's cold and sticks together like a solid slab of stuff that will have to be pulled apart a sheet at a time and there's hundreds of sheets, when the job's complete something will inevitably be wrong and the next 3 jobs just like it!
Somewhere in this fun and frolicking I need to visit the toilet for a wee, at least twice in the day but I gaurantee there won't be any toilet paper or if there is it's one of those big rolls in the plastic wall box so when you pull it the case rips the sheet every 2 inches! The soap dispenser will be empty, I'll have to use the soap bar that's crispy and cracked and covered in grime and dirt from whatever-the-hell washed its paws with it last year! Don't forget the paper towels, if there are any, they won't come out of the dispenser because there's too many in it and they tear to shreds because they're cheap and very, very nasty. This has all taken 2 minutes too long and the supervisor is calling in through the door to see if you're still alive! You're starting to wonder if you are or if you've died and gone to hell in a handbasket. Did I mention that the bathroom area on the scale of sterility ( 100 being high pressure steam cleaned with acid, 1 being the inside of 3 day old fecal matter on a hot day) is about a 20 at best. That's only because they put bleach down the pan and empty the floor mops bucket contents down it too.
Apparently still breathing, called out by the super, harrassed because you forgot to get them to sign a job off and did it anyway but it was wrong, what a surprise, a headache due to dehydration for previously stated reasons, stomach rumbling and mercilessly making you burp acid, every machine around you having mechanical failures because the powers a bit jiggery this morning and you need a steam iron to get the frown out of your face by the end of the day!
Tea breaks aren't peaceful today, everybody wants to bemoan their fate, including me. Although I might staple a cushion to my head and bang it against the wall for a change.
I'm going now to drown myself in the puddle by the door. There's probably enough toxic waste in the water to keep it warm now so I'm bringing my little bath duck with me tomorrow!