misendeavours of a chronic bitchface

As I type, I am sitting in a filthy, dusty workshop waiting my turn to use the hot wire cutter while some self-entitled senior has wasted an hour and a half of my time – and has asked for 30 minutes more. My laptop is sitting on a humongous piece of styrofoam – 64 x 123 x 152 cm to be exact while pau and zhoey are respectively in their own worlds waiting for this senior to get her shit together and cut the damn foam already.

I mean, seriously. You waltz in in the morning, nonchalantly say I need to use and then prove yourself completely incapable of using it, while having the gall to make a bunch of people shift a huge and heavy block of foam into some already very narrow circulation space and have them sit around witnessing your inability.

And without saying sorry too.

Edit: said senior apologised so now I feel a bit bad for being such a grouch D: