My eyeballs are falling out.

They really need to replace the computer monitors in this place. My eyes are killing me and I still have two and a half hours to go.

*curls in a ball under her desk and snoozes*

*is violently awakened by the first page in two hours*

Waiting for the deluge...

Well, two actually.

The first will be the media hysteria here regarding the Australian injured in the London bombing who died sometime today. It may have already started, but part of the nightshift lifestyle is that I sleep all day and haven't seen any news services yet today. But yeah, cue the outraged rantings because one of the many victims happened to have been born here. It's tragic that anyone was killed - their nationality doesn't make it any more so, imo.

The second deluge will be the Harry Potter squeeings that will overtake my f-list after a period of prolonged silence, broken by occasional posts about what page people are up to. Considering I'll be awake and on nightshift and thus online as it's Friday daytime in the Northern Sphere, I forecast a very endless night. My RP character and I shall be hiding out in the corner over here.

It's not that I begrudge my friends their obsession, it's just I really don't share it and people don't seem capable of talking about anything else. I've tried, but I really don't like Rowling's writing style, and the characters irritate me. Perhaps I ought to drag out that little satire fanfic piece I wrote a while back and polish the ending... But yeah, dull night ahead.

And yes, I'm probably about to be flamed into oblivion. Nice knowing you guys. *grins*

And finally, an object lesson for all those of you out there planning to become mad old ladies living with a hundred cats. When you die and you have no-one to notice, the cats will eat you. We're getting one of those cases coming in tonight, poor old thing.

And now for something completely not-fun

My co-worker Sarah was just telling me how the back office staff used to grade families' reactions when they saw their loved ones in the identification room. With cards numbered 1-10. I just got a 9 - there was an industrial accident this afternoon where a welder was hit and killed by a falling metal plate. HIs defacto aife is English, out here without family, pregnant and with a two year old. She's devestated. And I have to say, there's few things harder in this world than to sit at your desk and pretend to type whilst a grief striken woman is keening just around the corner. Luckily his family was with her, holding her together since there was bugger all I could do.

I really hate this part.