I Can Complain About Anything

I don't mind this new job. Actally, since it's not entirely set up to run properly and I end up just sitting around doing nothing . . . I don't mind it at all. But somehow, I always end up finding something to complain about. That's just my nature I guess.

And what am I belly-aching about today . . . the bathroom. The bathroom on the third floor where my desk is located in smells like someone peed all over the walls. The smell of urine is so pungent and static that you go in and your nostrils flare up at the most foul odor that stagnates within the tiled confines of the lavatory.

Now, what's stopping me from checking out the 2nd floor bathroom. Well . . .stairs. Have you tried climbing those things? No, seriously . . . I'm not sure if the key that is used here for the bathrooms will grant me access to the 2nd floor or even 1st floor bathrooms, and I'm sure as heck not going to descend into the bowels of this building. Not that I am afraid of bowel movements . . . hmm . . . what? What if I make it down to the 2nd floor and the key does not work? Then I have to try the 1st floor and what if the key does not work there. Then I'm stuck, having to go to the bathroom and having to run up two flighs of stairs with either a loaded bladder or a turtle-head poking out.

Or I could just start flinging my feces at the windows of the other offices here in the building (I'm facing an atrium) and see what happens. Yeah, I think I'll do that.