I come to work and try to get the hours to pass. At lunch I am all relieved that there is only 5 hours left before I can leave this place. Then I get to Two`o clock and think well I have got 2 hours left. And now I have 15 minutes.

The slowest minutes in the universe.
I recall going to school, dragging my feet to the tram stop thinking. It`s only for 8 hours. Just bring a book or some markers.
It was torture just like being cooped up here is.

Some of the men here wear suits and have fake tans, they do there work. The others are more relaxed I guess, and take there time.
The last group gives me more work as the receptionist I am, but who cares.

My head feels swollen and inflamed.