Simon

Simon

Hello, it's Sunday again. You know the feeling, if only the weekend
could have dragged on one day longer? Awww.

Well it won't so deal with it. I know you've given in a long time ago,
you have stopped believing that there's hope in each new day, and each
new week you poor little shit. There's no friendly way to put this, but
you're just gonna have to get used to it 'cos you're probably right,
this next week aint likely to have anything more hopeful to offer than
the last and neither will the one after that.

Mr Chester, You're a dreamer, you've got your head in the clouds, 24/7
and unfortunately that's not where your workstation is, is it. The
stark truth for you Is that you're not in a particularly dreamy job, I
don't know, maybe you should have been a designer or an artist or
something fruity like that- Oh yeah, in case you were worried, I'm not
firing you, I'd at least have the balls to say it to your face...
You've got very tired eyes Simon. Liven them up boy, its hitting your
performance and I can't stand for that.

I'm used to it being where nobody gave a damn weather their employees
were happy or not, as long as they worked. I know that makes me sound
like a 'miserable old faggot' but its true, and stop calling me that
behind my back would you, it pisses me off! If you think I'm being
unfair when I tell you to get the hell off 'instant messenger' and get
back to work then say it for god's sake! I'll bust you down to size so
fast you'll break your knees on the way down, and you'll deserve it.
But, If you've got something to get off your chest so badly then just
say it, don't be so spineless, I can't stand that miserable face of
yours every bloody day, It's giving me indigestion pal...

I suppose you're starting to wonder what the point of this little
letter is, anyway. Oh I don't know, maybe I'm jest starting to realise
that 'a happy worker is a hard worker', as they say, and you're not a
happy person. So why you? Heh, I can just imagine you trembling quietly
as you open up this big scary letter from the boss and yes, this is the
only one I'm writing, no one else is getting one, Its just you. I don't
know why though, there are plenty like you I see, droning around every
weekday, but you stand out. You've got these, pale icy eyes and every
time I walk past you I get chills you creepy sod.

I don't know, maybe you need to go out and get laid mate, or at least
rent a good porno or something. Not that I don't already suspect that
you're downloading something a bit more 'naughty' than those stupid
e-mail jokes while you're pretending to work when I look your
way.

Hmm, like I said, I know you've lost hope and frankly I don't care,
Simon. If you want hope then go to church or buy a freakin' lottery
ticket or something, do something at least, geez! Don't want you
committing suicide now do we.

I guess I have these lapses from time to time, the pressure gets to me
and I find myself actually caring weather sods like you are happy or
not. I get these stupid ideas like turning up in my pants or something,
just to get a smile out of the likes of you, can you believe it! Well,
I can't. Don't worry, I'll never actually be pathetic enough to do it.
I'll be the same miserable old git you hate so much this Monday, and if
you mention a word of this letter to anyone I'll execute you on the
spot... I bet you're looking forward to it already, aren't you... See
you on Monday.