Day 54.

(An active monologue about someone who is pissed about something)

It's morning. A woman leans over the recycling bin, about to toss the day's newspaper.

Woman: This is such fucking bullshit. Honestly, look at this. Weather today: Mostly sunny; some afternoon wind. High: 95 Low: 58.
That could be anything. Why don't they just print 'I have no fucking idea and I'm an overpaid, incompetent waste of space who whacks off in the break room instead of doing work.' I would volunteer to have that guy's job. High 95 Low 58. Thanks a lot, now I know exactly what's going on. I could have pulled that out of my tits. Look outside and put some random bullshit like mostly sunny. What if I did that on my job? Oh hey kids, so to work out this calculus problem we're just going to stare at it and guess answers. 72? Five thousand? Equally valid! No, I'm not overreacting. You know these kids are expected to know exactly what they're going to do in life? But no one expects a weatherman to know anything. What do you mean meteorology is a precise science? It's not about--No, I won't just 'go outside and see'! It's not about the weather!