not surprising

so my boss wants to have a meeting with the cow-orker and me in half an hour. is that surprising? no. do I know what he wants? not really. do I care? hell no.

update on the real life: I'm still so stressed out, I can't eat anything without the feeling of having just downed a friggin' brick. my stomach has kind of gone on strike. ah well... so I'll just live off espresso and cigarettes. vive le ulcer.

and I'm still reluctant about packing my shite into boxes at home, cancelling the rent on my flat and going ahead with the moving-back-to-mammy bit. tried to find a different, cheaper flat in my city for months now, but there's nothing I could afford. just great.