There’s rumours we’re going back to the office full-time, and I think with all the changes I’ve endured, and how much time that’s cost me (and killed me, as far as getting shit done), I think it’s going to kill me.

Something will have to give, and I’m afraid it will be me and my sanity.

I don’t want to switch jobs again.

Unless it’s full time author.

Fuckin’ hell, Carney. You’re a real piece of shit, you know. First all the globalist bullshit, now this.

I’ll still never vote Con, but damn son. I was already on the fence on the Liberal Party the last few elections and only voted that way to avoid garbage like Scheer and Poilievre.

But if you have another one, I’m going hard left. NDP or Green, the whole fucking way.

Enough half-measures, done from fear of the right. It’s time to dump the centre, if the centre won’t listen either.

And it’s your fault, Carney, for being an unnecessary dick.

Target: 1400 words
Written: 1105 words, novel: Bad Neighbours

Read: Tesla: Man Out Of Time, Margaret Cheney
Comics: Fables 44-47
Music: 1,039 Smoothed Out Slappy Hours, Green Day