I hate

Reprographics.
What a tedious, thankless, mindless job it really is. I swore I'd never do twenty years in the trade, and here I am, twenty years later. Same grey box of a room, different mac, different software, same shit.
My boss uses my soul as a wank rag, mopping out his jizzy navel with my hopes and dreams.
My workmates are mindless buffoons, drooling on the page 3 of the paper while shovelling bacon into their toothless maws.
Next to me is a kid with bright ginger hair.
The funny bit? When he gets stressed, his hair falls out in clumps!
He gets stressed a lot.
He's in reprographics.
I've got to get out.
If I'm still her next year I'm going to go postal...

What a fucking great post.
I feel your pain, hombre.
Good luck.