Brain buffering. Fingers freelancing. Production at risk. đ
Metaphorically speaking, I needed to hit the ground running at work this morning.
Instead, I tripped over and skidded into Monday on my fucking face. đ
I donât know what it is today, but I just cannot be peopling. Unfortunately, work requires people, and apparently âplease leave me alone until my brain has finished bufferingâ isnât a recognised working arrangement.
Meanwhile, my fingers are a bunch of wankers. Doing their own shit, clicking things theyâve got absolutely no business clicking. My brain says âmove the mouseâ and my hand says âshall we delete a live service in production?â
NO, YOU LITTLE BASTARD. WE HAVE A MORTGAGE.
Proper touching-cloth moments. Sometimes Iâm scared to move because I donât know what those ten little dickheads are planning next.
Iâm going to start having sugar in my coffee. This shitâs scary enough without a bitter drink. đâ
I'm trying to write a report at work, its a bit of a mission trying to organise my thoughts but then my brain finger coordination is completely absent, word is having fun underlining virtually everything in red squiggles, even I can't work out what I was trying to type half the time. Letters all there, just in a totally random order (there was a sketch about that with musical notes, possibly 2 Ronnies?). Anyway, perhaps you need one of these for those Monday's where the brain is stuck buffering, just as a really subtle clue to your work colleagues: https://www.etsy.com/uk/listing/806186835/brain-loading-mens-t-shirt-funny?gpla=1&gao=1&&utm_source=bing&utm_medium=cpc&utm_campaign=shopping_uk_en_gb_-clothing-domestic_high&utm_custom1=_k_29cfc6b996e110a79266ac7a5baac782_k_&utm_content=bing_408847085_1305120608329001_81570103751992_pla-4585169653148755:pla-4585169653148755_c__806186835engb&utm_custom2=408847085&msclkid=29cfc6b996e110a79266ac7a5baac782