We’re leaving for the beach Friday. Today is not Friday, and my cube is not the beach. At least there is no sand. Not much.
Someone should write a book—or at least a lengthy essay—on how times moves so slowly at work when you’re leaving for the beach in 4 days. Any volunteers? Jay?
I just had the worst lunch ever, and it is Doug’s fault.
I'm listening to Ray Wylie Hubbard in CASE you wanted to know..
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May
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