I’m not sure how much more I can take
From the cloying, deranged voice of a well-meaning woman
Who calls me ‘doll’ a little too much and
Pets my head like a Labrador
To the snooty overlord
Who tears me away from real responsibilities
Please clean my congealed yogurt out from the sink
Cloying, deranged smile
I need a break, we all need a break
But even lunch turns into a trial
You insist on yelling “ándale!” to our
Far too polite waiter at Mexican Hardee’s
Even that name, cloying and deranged
What a goddamned insult
Barely concealed gossip, wafting just over
The cheaply constructed walls that are full of
Technicolor push pins, perfectly sized to slam
Into my ear sockets, blissful release
Oh. Nevermind, it’s 5 o’clock!
Everything’s great again!
Right?