I've had the shittiest week so far. Yes, Christmas was amazing but it's just not quite the same when you're a) not a kid and/or b) poorer than a chav is Glasgow. Also, there was the obligatory torture of having to work late on Christmas Eve and work early on Boxing Day (seriously?! What the fuck is that about? Do I not have a family/hangover/bed to accommodate instead of pandering to the needs of the un-pleaseable middle class of Surrey?!)
Then, after two torturous days on the Customer Service Desk from Hell (TM), I suddenly become struck down by two incredibly mean late Christmas presents. First of all, I'm smacked in the face with the news that my contract now ends on New Year's Eve rather than the middle of January (thanks for the heads up!) and then I spent the best part of last night either coughing like an old aged emphysema patient or decorating my bathroom with vomit. Nice mental image there, right? You're welcome.
So I'm brought to this beautiful conclusion. I hate my job. I hate not being in charge. So I'm going to totally take over the world, a la Brain from Pinky and the Brain. After all, I do have cooler nicknames than Barack "Barry" Obama. And I'm pretty sure I'm taller than Nicolas Sarkozy. All I need now is a room full of minions and a huge henchman to help me rid the world of horrible, retarded bosses and Simon Amstell. Because no one likes Simon Amstell.