(no subject)

The supervisors are merciless torturers. This morning they filled up the used Quality Street tin with Heroes. And, of course, all through the shift I had to watch Jane and Paula, next to me, both scoffing the odd one between calls, as well as seeing Amanda and Vanessa having a dip while I was up at the front desk. But you don't run 25 miles of the London Marathon then say "Ah, fuck it" and walk off the track, so every time I had to pass the table (which was fairly often today - bloody refusals and appointments) I walked on by.

At least I'm off now for 5 days. w00t!