I spent last night trying to write a song

Upbeat and catchy, simple and strong

It turns out I’m too much of a rock-chick

To write hip-hop, Kwaito shtick

It’s no real loss, it’s not quite my style

I find those genres a little hostile

Although I did sing along to Back in Black

A very retro AC/DC track

On the way to work this morning

Hard yes, but no parental lyric warnings

Some may think my children have been let down

Because they don’t know nursery rhymes

and how Jack broke his crown

But they rock along to Marilyn Manson,

The Pixies, the Cure and then some

Marais now reckons he’s one hot Romeo

A Shakespearian legend and a real pro

Although he may have bitten off more than he can chew

He’s got Christina making him coffee too

The suit is back and she’s blowing off steam

It would help if we could understand what on earth she means

I know that it all boils down to semantics

But this job is not for a bunch of romantics

With ideal visions of how things should be

Some misplaced Utopian fantasy

I’ve got a meeting all through lunch

I’ don’t need to eat, thanks a bunch!

Food, what’s that? My staple diet

Is a Slimma shake drunk quickly on the quiet

If someone were to catch me in the act of drinking

They’d think I was from my workload shrinking

And they wonder why I smoke

Its to quell the hunger pangs that at my stomach poke.

Don’t worry that I took an idea mediocre

And turned into something fucking super

Don’t worry that I wrote the entire presentation

Or that this job is my vocation

Don’t bother to tell me my presence isn’t needed

When I had actually proceeded

To get in my car and drive halfway there

Before you bothered to tell me I’d only use up air

So do me a favour and one for you too

Keep far out of my way for a week or two

You think you can handle this one on your own

Be my guest brother, this birdie has flown

Women throughout industries are always complaining

Of work place harassment and entertaining

Glances at cleavage most revealing

Well, sweetheart don’t show them at all

If you don’t men to hold them in thrall

Better yet why don’t you spare a glance

At the way you manipulate those wearing pants?

The tears and the weeping, the panic attacks

Do you think that’s professional? No thanks.

Here’s the thing sweetheart, your tears have me vexed

And they don’t work at all on the fairer sex

So have some Kleenex and blow your nose

When you’ve pulled yourself together let me know.

I’ve got over my moment of exasperation

I’ve had a rather sudden realization

That everything will work out right

That I only have one more long dark night

Before I’m off to tickle my toes in the sea

I’ve just had the grown-up equivalent of ten of the best

So my ass is smarting, but I passed the test

Faces turned as I walked the plank

But I gave a smile and remembered to thank

Each of the people who got me here

I remember your names, never fear

Apparently I’m filled with rage

Yup, you got it, we’re on the same page

I’ve had it with quick turnaround times

And kissing ass and queuing in line

To wait my turn like a good little girl

Walk in my shoes, come give it a whirl!

But I said my piece, it was quite cathartic

And I took my kick

in the ass like a man I might add

Forgive me, I really don’t mean to brag!

But as I said in the meeting

My very bad moods are actually fleeting

I’m going away for a long long while

I’m sure that I’ll return with a wide toothy smile

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I write because I have to. It is a compulsion. I do it to vent, to laugh and to remember. I blog because it has been so long since I had to write with a pen that my hand would go into cramp if I tried to write a journal.

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