Lovely job

I am home, I think I am home. It is odd to say this; When, where I went to was 'home' I went home to pay my respects to a dear and loved friend. I don't know why people say, 'It was a lovely service. It was a lovely funeral.' Just nervous chatter, I reckon. I went to stay with my 90-year-old best friend. Velma She and I had the best time, ever. Sat up late at night chattering like 10 year olds. I did get to see all of my catholic church friends and family. It was a quick and very sweet visit for a serious reason. I've got so much I want to just spin out, here, that is on my mind, and buggering me, under the skin a little bit. I have to get some sleep, I am tired and I have my lovely job, (Sarcasm) to return to tomorrow. I know, I should be grateful, I even have work to do. But, for what? I work in a sales environment with nothing but greedy, self centered, manipulative, deceitful women. Which I think translates into 'I am not happy.' at this work place. Is it too much to ask the world, and 'employer-ing' Gods for a happy, safe, fair, productive enviroment in which to work in?