Sometimes work makes me feel like this.

And by sometimes, I mean basically every day, frequently multiple times a day.  It’s a wonder I don’t get stabby sometimes, although the fact that I apologize to chairs when I bump into them implies a certain wishy-washiness that rarely accompanies mass stabbings.

Honestly, since I work in the opera basement, I’d be more likely to get hold of a half mask and a cape and start dropping flourescent lights on people while laughing maniacally and playing the organ. . . except there’s no organ down here, and I can only play ‘Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star” off key, which doesn’t have the same gravitas.  I’d have to mime playing my tiny violin instead.

(May also lack gravitas)

Anyone want to find me a tiny bow?