He is just so goddam busy, the Complete and Total Loser. The museum he works in is exhibiting the work of a famous artist, dead, of course, and it thrums with visitors. They clog every hallway, confused, lost, walking at the pace of sloths. The ones the Loser has contact with are often irritable, cheap and rude. They crowd rooms, sucking the oxygen out, leaving them stuffy and damp.
The show is to end in two weeks, but somehow the Loser doesn't believe this. Nor do his coworkers. They're wrong. It will end at the designated time. But it will be a long two weeks.
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