Man on 4 hours' sleep battles to solve routine email
"Are they docking my pay for this?" Dom Brittle asks. "Hahaha, aww."
Dom, operating on just four hours of sleep has the brain function of an amoeba. Dom, who collects the first-world salary of a multi-celled organism is a piece of detritus today. It's only a matter of time before his boss notes his lack of efficiency and dispenses with him like the jetsam he is.
"Fuck I'm a sad piece of shit," he laments.
Shinning brightly on Dom's desktop screen is an internal email requesting him to reply to a client whose email he doesn't have and with many references to an attachment that isn't attached.
"Where's the fucken attachment Sharon?" Dom mutters psychotically to himself.
Barely a synapse pulsing between his ears, Dom resolves to leave this email until after lunch, when, he hopes, some cognition will be forthright.
Updates to follow.