Fortunate are those with seniority. For they get first pick of vacation days and do not have to endure the vacuous hell that is "The Last Day At Work Before The Christmas Holiday".
For the record, it is 8:55 a.m., and my work day ends at 3:30-ish, so I'm staring six-and-a-half hours of boredom right in his ugly face. My work, what there was of it, is completed. I have been to the cafeteria for coffee. I've visited all of my favorite web sites and have updated my facebook and twitter pages.
What to do, what to do? Let's see, on the other side of my cube, the chatty, young wanna-be hipster woman is talking to the the androgynous young man with the mutant donkey laugh about her evening. Every breathless revelation from the young lady is answered with a "huh-huuuhhh, huh-huuuhhh" from the hermaphroditically challenged young man. I wonder if my Swiss army knife blade is long enough and sharp enough to sever both his windpipe and carotid artery in one slash?
Best not to find out.
On the opposite side of my cube, the elderly Asian man chats on the phone with his wife for the 10th time today, and he's only been here for 45 minutes. The sing-song Mandarin, so charming during the first month or so of my employment, has begun to grate on my nerves like fingernails on a chalk board. Perhaps a well-aimed blow with my paperweight to the base of his skull will silence him?
Again ... best not to find out.
Just looked at my watch again ... six hours to go.
Saints preserve me ... and Merry Christmas!