"Both. I mean, I'm so mad at you that I don't know what to do with myself, but this place is really getting to me. I think I'd shoot a full clip into this manager bastard and just throw the gun at you."
Theoretical violence is the best way to describe how she feels. She sighs, setting her food down. "I can't work. I can't even leave the goddamn cabin, because I'm not passing out in a puddle of my own vomit in front of those geeky bastards who keep taking pictures of my feet just to prove they exist."