The Next Big Thing

I just about survived the first week in the Gervais-like new setting only it's not funny, just toe-curlingly embarrassing. The chatter/carping and the general trivial pish that (most of) the denizens partake of is doing my practically hairless head in. I can't switch off and thusly hear every twitter, every flesh creeping spurt of verbal diarhorrea and cackle. Emphasis on the cack here. Then there's the mobile phone ringtone that plays the James Bond theme, is there no end to the humiliation? I'm holding back here, can you tell? Not the best environment to be creative in then, no matter what the view from the window. In the bleak midwinter, driech will be the word and the lid may well come off this pressure cooker also. However, there is much going on outwith and some folks tell me that I'm lucky to have a job at all. Aye right, don't they know the world owes me a living? The cliche mongers are sapping my will not to explode alright but I shall overcome. For my homies.