I have somewhat of a reputation at work for being cynical. So much in fact, that it was proposed that a 'Cynical Jar' was introduced so that anyone being cynical had to put a pound in it.
I just said that someone would probably just run off and steal the money before it could be used for anything useful, so what was the point?
The idea didn't get raised again. Which just goes to show that cynicism conquers all.
Or so I thought, because my place of work has managed to defeat by massive cynical streak by simply being worse than I could have possibly imagined.
How can you be cynical about something that couldn't actually be any worse? I find myself de-cynicalised, a feeling probably akin to waking up to find yourself strangely missing a hand.
And so, in a mild turn-up for the books, I've gone from acid-drippingly cutting for a couple of months to actually quite happy today. How can I not be happy? I was right. They really were doing that. They really are going to do that thing that even a lobotomised goat-fucker would think twice about. I have no power so I can't stop them doing these bollock-numbingly stupid things, so I may as well go with the flow and enjoy the ride.
If I was on the Titanic I'd be popping open the champagne right now. After all, when there's no tomorrow, who picks up the bill?