The Swingline Revolution will be... postponed for a meeting, m'kay?

Grr bark bark. Bark grr grr.
Work is so, so unbearably stupidly freakishly busy right now, I can't even explain it without sounding crazy. I'm going to try, though.
"Blao ghee segerrrfff lousulil *drool* *slobber* REB approval skadibiddy! SKADIBIDDY DOOOOOO!"
I feel better now. (voice from other room: "Good, good. Feel the hate flow through you." Me: "Jesus?")
In conclusion, I offer you some random phrases that have occurred in the last week. Mostly these were me. Explanations, if required, will be in the accompanying parentheses.
"I can't find the lightning bolt!!!" (New operating system.)
"The photocopier is trying to kill me!" (It was.)
"GODDAMMIT You piece of crap! I hate you so much, why don't you just die!" (Addressing stapler [not a Swingline], potentially in league with photocopier.)
"Of course you did. Thank you. Bye." (to Patient records upon finding out that the films required for the audit were destroyed last year, after spending 40 minutes trying to locate them)
"Nooooo, are you kidding me? It's my own personal Christmas." (to co-worker who tentatively asked if audit preparation was going badly. I may have been hiding under my desk sobbing at the time. It's hard to say.)
"We need audit cookies. Stat."
"I need audit cake. Stat."
"We need audit strudel. Stat."
"We need audit nachos. Stat."
"I feel fat."

Shut up. I'm pretty.

Never ever EVER thought I would say this at work.

Guess I was wrong. That's what happens when you stare pointedly at the photocopier for 5 minutes, wondering why your printing hasn't shown up yet. "But I hit print! I don't understand it!"

"Um..."

"I mean, come on! Is everything broken and stupid around here?"

"Um..."

"For the love of... Oh, wait. Wait. Is this... Is this the photocopier?"

"Um... yeah. So, you have a master's degree, right?"

"..."

Good times. Happy it's Friday.

Also, speaking of chocolate, went grocery shopping. They had no Skor bites. I was sad, because I had a whole "perfect sundae" virtual exploded view diagram in my head, of which Skor bites were an integral part. My blood sugar may have been a bit low, I may have been a weee lllleeeeettlee bit cranky, because unfortunately, the following exchange then occurred.

"They have Maltesers."

"Well, why don't you just vomit right into my mouth?"