Work tomorrow.. Yay Hay!!

You know it's time to visit irishjobs.ie when..

You tear your apartment apart looking for a shotgun, but find only (suspiciously, considering the last bicycle you cycled had three wheels and a bell that played ‘chopsticks’) a bicycle pump and wonder if it’ll do. You curse your landlord for installing an electrical oven and wonder if baking will do the same job as a gas one. You produce a spool of string and look for a lofty beam, but give up when you realise that you’re actually taller than the flat you live in. You rifle through your medicine cabinet and only finding 4 packs of lemsip ponder if you’ll either arrive at the pearly gates OD’d out of your head, but dead, or simply make yourself immune from colds until 2017. You quickly realise that any attempts to drown in your shower, with its power rating something similar to a gentle licking from a drowsy cat, would only result in a slight dampness. Your investigation of the bedroom floor reveals no train tracks on which to strap yourself to, and even if it did the corrupt planning process in this country surely would not stretch to building a mainline express route through a third floor Rathgar flat. You curse Gillette for putting safety bars across their razors, but are impressed with the fact that those troublesome wrist hairs have now been dispensed with. You’re frustrated that the expensive ‘handpicked by a virgin from space’ Olive Oil has the same fire warning rating as a block of cheese. You give up and give in to the fact that you have work tomorrow.

...Bicycle pump noise...