Clearly it is difficult to provide salient career advice without a thorough understanding of context. I have conducted a comprehensive mindsearch, and can confirm that the root causes of Lou’s dissatisfaction are briefly, and by her own account, as follows:
1) The Penetrative Gaze of Thaddaeus Godley
Lou’s work cubicle is situated in such a way that a clear line of sight is present between her, and co-worker Thaddaeus Godley. Thaddaeus utilises this opportunity to spend the better part of his working day staring on Lou’s boobs, with with the patient intensity of a lovesick basset hound, scrutinising a locked front door in anticipation of his master’s return. The basset hound knows that sooner or later, be it hours, be it weeks, his faith will be rewarded, and the object that seperates him from his desire will fall open, but thus far Thaddaeus’s only rewards have been the occasion on 13th July when Lou forgot to fasten the middle button of her blouse, and a rather embarrassing interview with human resources.
b) The Fiscal Gullibility of the Childless Woman
Lou’s workplace is unhappily situated within a market area that is riddled with disreputable traders, street vendors and snake-oil salesman. Her daily, lonely, joyless trudge to Pret A Manger leaves her at the complete mercy of these unscrupulous individuals, and is a trial of temtation equal even to that of St. Augustine. Lou is rarely able to resist, and her squalid bedsit is crammed full with chinese herbal teapots which she purchased for £600, and only used once, African love potions, and Leeds United Football Club.
xi) Charity Begins At Work, And Ends In Poverty
Lou works out of Charity, and in consequence, is unable to retain a wage. Only the worst kind of hypocrite could accept a wage from a charity. Unfortunately Lou’s existence does run to a certain amount of expenses, as described above, which she struggles to service. The procurement of Chinese Herbal Teapots for £600, which she only uses once. Anti-Thaddaeus rape-alarms. These are her Necessities.
2) The Unquenchable Cock-Thirst of Being
With the possible exception of Thaddaeus Godley, Lou’s workplace is a penile vortex. A cock desert. A fuckpole famine. It has been this way since the Great Toilet War of 2004, when Lou’s continued objection to the pejorative labelling of toilets (“Ladies” infers an outdated, offensive moral standard, “Women” is derived from the ancient saxon term “Wo Men”, meaning lesser men, and “Her” is just plain rude), resulted in the removal of all toilet doors, which introduced a certain amount of embarrassment, and a much greater amount of unpleasant, pungent aromas into the workplace.
