wring wring wring

Work is picking up pace at the office, which is good. I pissed off Boss for the 185th time in a week, which is not good. I feel stupid. And the fact that we're seriously not busy AT ALL around the office for the past month and still I manage to make such idiotic mistakes makes me feel like snapping off my left wrist with a pair of blunt scissors. Or quit my job and work full-time at Starbucks as a barista. But then, memorizing the exact amount of each ingredient for 30 different beverages might prove too taxing for my dwindling brains. Am I actively murdering my brains from all the cigarettes? Let me go smoke one and think about it.