Private Entry - Copyright <c> 1969, Mann Co. OS Version 3.2 / Date - Sat 13-Sep-1969
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Oh bloody hell, I’ve really done it this time. My job is currently on the line and the Administrator is losing her patience with me. I should have kept my gobby mouth shut about that stupid Conagher. I should have thought better of myself than to express my problems to Florence. Did she tell the Administrator about my complaints? I hope not. No.
I know Florence, she’s not the type to betray the people she cares about the most. Entertaining this train of thought would lead me to darker places that I need to stay far away from. It probably doesn’t help that I haven’t been sleeping well either. Becoming more reliant on sleeping pills isn’t exactly my idea of a healthy lifestyle, but then again, nothing here fosters such a thing.
My sanity is at a ticking time bomb. Every step I make is scrutinized at every turn. Every word I say has to be precisely curated to clear me of suspicion, while being endearing to these freaks. Even my body language is being observed for the littlest of details. Despite being hired to be Her eyes and ears, I feel like I’m the one being watched.
But that’s not even the worst of it. No no no.
It’s that bloody Engineer.
I hate that arsehole so much. I hate his name. I hate his bloody fucking face. That smug smile that always has on. The fact that he always thinks he’s right. Those goggles he never takes off that make him look like the bellend that he is. That goody-goody persona that he dawns as if he isn’t the fakest twat of all of bloody Teufort!
And the most loathsome of all. His bloody accent. He ruined it for me. I hope the bastard gets his vocal chords ripped from his throat!
I finally see why he had those arse-kissing bootlicking wankers wrapped around his fingers. He’s terribly skilled at manipulation. That docile facade does wonders for getting anyone to do what he wants. It would be almost terrifying, if he weren’t so…short.
I suppose it was rather daft to treat him like a boogeyman when the top of his head only reaches my collarbones…
The Administrator was right after all. I was only overreacting. Writing until 3 in the morning doesn’t seem to help anyhow. I feel even worse than before. Maybe a quick smoking break would help.
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