aliens, come and rescue me

still feeling wonky. have been asked to transfer the week of vacation another 2 weeks later. so my girly coworker (cow-orker) can maker her publishing deadline. guess what has been happening the past hour or so? she'd doing those irritable coughs... uh-cha, uh-cha... you know? the ones that ain't for real, but she sounds as if she's about to die of weakness. she stumbles into my office asking how my last cold started and coughs a little for effect. I just look at her.
"listen... you have a deadline to make, which is the only reason for me having to set my vacation further back for another 2 weeks. you've no time being ill now. it's just no-go."
I think I should just kill her. kill my boss too. the paper-cutter looks so tempting. 've started to not care too much about how easy it'd track n trace towards me if they're found cut into pieces in the trashcans outside the building *grins*
what was the reason again I agreed to work for this company? money? ahahahaha no, that can't be.