I've found hell. I think it deserves its bad rep...

So I've been building this theory in my mind about the position of my chair at work. I have decided that this theory is now officially correct after a period of nonstop proof.

My theory is simple, my chair is situated on top of the gates of hell. My reasons for why I think this, I hear you ask? Well it's really only one reason, but it's a good one. If you walk anywhere else within my place of work, you are met with a nice cool breezy air. It makes you relaxed and comfortable, you find yourself smiling for no reason, so at peace are you that you begin to hug yourself and welcome in the neverending bliss that is a room that is neither too hot or too cold, but just right.

However, there is a little pocket of air that seems to be the exception to the rule. The only pocket of air, apparently, that exists within my workplace. This pocket of air surrounds my chair, my desk and anything within 5 feet of that area. Inside this pocket, it is a furnace. There is no cool breeze, regardless of the fan blowing directly at it, there is no freshness and comfortableness, there is only heat. Heat and sweat and the want to cry even though you have no idea why. Either that or strip down to your underwear in a desperate attempt to find yourself some relief from the neverending tirade of mugginess and bad bodily odours. But you can't because people have deemed it as "unprofessional" so you have to sit in it instead and spend your entire day trying your very hardest not to turn the uncomfortable feeling into a snappy mood. This is an action that, try as you may, you find hella hard.

Now, no one seems to be able to offer me an explanation for why this particular section of my office is so unbelievably horrible. In fact, the most that they have to say is to walk into said office and exclaim that it is unbelievably stuffy. I usually just nod my agreement outwardly, whilst thinking "Really? You think it's stuffy? Because I've been sitting here all day and I hadn't noticed." But I refrain from snapping these words and watch them longingly as they escape out of the bubble of heat and back into the beautiful air conditioned world. Because there is no explanation, I have decided that this must mean mine is correct. Somewhere, underneath me, there is a large set of gates being guarded by a dog with three heads or something. There are volcanoes and fiery pits, and people are desperately applying Aloe Vera to help with the burns they have sustained. And as we all know from our science classes, heat rises, so all of that fire is slowly travelling up further and further until it reaches me just as it hits the most excruciating heights of its heat... and that's what I'm sitting in at the moment. It is not comfortable at all.

Peace out my lovelies