It's a sad, sick world

I am trapped at work. Seriously. It is after 1 a.m. on a Saturday night/Sunday morning and I cannot get any of the damn car services that my firm uses to come pick me up and take me home! Yeah. Have I mentioned that I've been here since around noon? I finished working almost an hour ago, but I'm obviously still here . . . just waiting. I feel like this is possibly some kind of cruel, sick joke . . . like maybe it's one of those candid camera situations where my firm is testing me to see how much I will put up with. And if I last long enough, I win a million dollars or something. But something tells me that's SO not the case. Something tells me this is just . . . my life.

I am half-tempted to lay down on the floor under my desk and go to sleep, George Costanza-style . . . oy. Pray that I get out of here soon, kids!