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Almost Going Postal

I sit staring at my computer screen. I’m having trouble concentrating. Not because I’m daydreaming about a wonderful beach vacation faraway from all civilization, but because of the incessant chatter emanating from my cubicle mates.
Don’t get me wrong, people have a right to communicate. We are social creatures after all. But the quality of the conversation leaves much to be desired. Not only is it pessimistic, but it’s usually judgmental as well.
There’s always a problem with those that have been encountered over the weekend. Or there’s another pain to explore in depth with graphic details. Or the occasional snarky remark about the boss and how the ways of the company are not fair.
I know it seems asinine to complain about such a thing, but if you had to listen to someone who, day in and day out, spewed forth utter nonsense, wouldn’t you be annoyed? And, no, I’m not exaggerating.
I think I can now understand those who walk into work one day and set the place on fire. I’m only kidding. Sort of.

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