caustic angst

There is a point and time in what I imagine is most, if not very nearly every person's life, when they once-and-for-all stand up abruptly at their labor-worn desk, pushing back their rickety chair onto the floor with a loud crash, or clunk, and slam their fist, either to their desk or somewhere relatively close by onto the surface of another object (which very well may be a fellow employee), and with this violence action, declare audibly their disgust for their life in general. For me, thankfully, this has not yet happened to me. Mostly because I do not have a labor-worn desk, a rickety chair, or any employees. Such is the life of an angsty teen. Oh, my browser's auto correct function doesn't like angsty, so let's try the word caustic.

:|

Okay, I'm not as bad as to be considered highly acidic, but for the sake of word choice, it's somewhat applicable. But whatever, I really don't feel like finishing this rant right now.