My own personal purgatory....

I just want all of you to imagine this scene with me.

Jules sits alone on the floor of a dark and damp cave. There is a heavy silence in the air, broken only by an ominous dripping noise, most likely coming from a drooling and vicious monster lurking in one of the dark corners. (But I digress.)

Suddenly, the heavy silence is broken by a loud ringing noise. Jules jumps from her spot on the frigid stone floor. She frantically searches for the source of the ringing, desperate to make it stop. Soon she realizes that the sound is coming from a telephone near her feet. Slightly hesitant, she picks up the phone.

"H-Hello?" she croaks.

The person on the other end is an elderly woman who speaks very slowly. "Hi. I...need...to...ask...you...a...question...about...scrap-booking."

The awful truth dawns on Jules: She is stuck in her own personal hell, doomed to answer telephone calls from crazy scrap-booking ladies forever.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!" she screams.

Satan appears from one of the dark corners, holding a clipboard and shaking his head. "Tsk, tsk. That is not going to reflect well on your call evaluation."


Maybe I need to get another job....