Two beer, or not two beer

Рабочий день окончен. Направление развития вечера определено. Нимфа поёт:

Two beer, or not two beer:
That is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous deadlines,
Or to take arms against a sea of paperwork,
And by opposing, end them? To file—to shred;
No more; and by a shred to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
That spreadsheets heir to: 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd. To file—to shred;
To shred—perchance to sleep; ay, there's the rub!
For in that sleep deprived, what dreams may come
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil
Of endless meetings and projects that have no worth,
Must give us pause—there's the respect
That makes calamity of so long a week;
For who would bear the whips and scorns of bosses,
Th' oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
The pangs of dispriz'd PowerPoint, the TPS delay,
The insolence of offices, and the spurns
That patient merit of th' unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare coaster? Who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after work,
The undiscover'd country, from whose bourn
No traveller returns—the empty fridge, the chores—
Puzzles the will, and makes us rather bear
Those ills we have than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of coffee,
And enterprises of great pitch and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action.—Soft you now!
The fair Ophe— wait, no... The frothy ale!
Nymph, in thy brimming glass be all my sins remember'd!
This barstool is my Last Sprint.
Pass the nuts.