Does anyone remember the exact moment they stopped being a carefree imp, flitting through the days 'twixt work and fun without care without a second thought? When the bullshit job you only took to pay the rent stopped mattering the moment you stood up from your desk?
I think that just happened to me. Terrible Dierdre Barlow-alike in my office keeps coming over to the printer/scanner which is right next to me. I like being ignored at work, and yet she keeps talking, out loud, either to the printer, me, or some unseen Norse god of toner cartridges, about her printing woes. Every 2 minutes or so. Usually I wouldn't care. Today it's actually pissing me off. Am I now 'institutionalised'? Do I now care about whether the stationary order is correct? Should I MAN THE FUCK UP?