How depressing.

So I worked late last night. It was pretty shyte going at the Faceless Corporation's Call Centre of Hell^TM: customers were especially rude for some reason, and a cock up with Faceless Corporation's national phone system had customer calls from Queensland and Western Australia pouring in to us instead of where they normally go.

I couldn't scab a lift home so I hopped on a train. It was the last one for the night on that particular line and to complete my journey home I needed to change at one of the City stations. The night was relatively young, considering that I was only coming off the last train; on a night out I usually get into the city on the first Nightride Bus.

There was about ten minutes between the arrival of my train at Town Hall and the departure of the N80. Ten minutes in which I could've decided to cross Hyde Park and head down the Golden Mile/Kilometre/Fraction Thereof, possibly indulging in the sensory experience that is Stonewall.

But I boarded the bus instead. And spent most of the trip back into sleepy suburbia pissed off that I'd wasted my Friday night. Le sigh.


Listening to:
Title: Rock Your Body, Rock [Poxymusic & Kid Kenobi's Break Your Body Rockin']
Artist: Ferry Corsten
Album/station: Ministry of Sound: Clubber's Guide to 2004 (2004)
Length: 2.59