So I sent a pixt of where I was working on Friday to torture my siblings. I would have been posting a photo to torture you lot, but at 1934 metres my camera battery decided to die on me. I could blame it on altitude, but we all know it's down to a stupid operator.
The photo was taken right at the very, very top of a ski field on a gloriously sunny crystal clear day. The caption read, 'Work is a bitch.'
Text back from my sister, 'I used to like you.'
I suppose it was the digital equivalent of a postcard.
And we all know a postcard is effectively saying, 'I'm having a good time. You're not.'
I hate postcards.
Except when I'm sending them.
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2 comments:
My personal favourite is the email sent from on holiday (preferably a long one) along the lines of "Hey everyone, having a great time on holiday in an exotic place with locals to wait on me hand and foot and tend to my every whim. How's work?"
I would have to reply to that with, 'Unfortunately in your absence there has been a restructure, sadly your position didn't survive and we are in the process of burning your desk.'
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