Defeated

The other day I was walking down the hall and this dude goes "You look better than usual today. You usually look more, you know...down." What the hell is that? Thanks for noticing my apparently uncharacteristic buoyancy, prick! Now I'm all self conscious about how defeated I look the other 90% of my life. And guess what, you're shitty backhanded compliment just slapped me back in my sad sack place! Now I'm going to think about it all the time and seethe with contempt and dislike whenever you come to my cubicle. I can't decide who I hate more now, you or the bookkeeper lady who hassles me about the amount of hours I'm giving the interns but won't let me see the budget I'm working off of (because said budget doesn't even technically exist) but in the meantime I'm supposed to do twice as much work as one well paid person can do and I am forced to use four underpaid goons who have no motivation and only do like one thing every hour and that's why I have to give them each 8 hours a week because, even though they're lazy they're not stupid and they know that lifting boxes full of books for $8 an hour is a rip off, but double that is fair, so they do half the amount of work that anyone trying at all would do. But then I have to yell at them for it and then they quit and I end up doing it anyway. Goddamnit.