Some partner I never met emailed last night and asked if I’d help out with a closing. I said yes, of course. Thirty-eight hours later, I haven’t gone to bed, left the building—or done a goddamn thing. I’m just sitting outside the conference room, waiting for this ass clown to give me something to do. All-nighters suck.
Gratuitous all-nighters suck much more! I’m literally just sitting here, doing nothing, drinking shitty coffee, trying to keep my eyes open. Every once in a while, his lordship will walk past me, crack a demonic smile and say something like, “Don’t fall asleep now, chief.” AAAHHHHHH! I HATE THIS JOB!
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