Stupid mortgage company. If I could, I’d totally put a hex on you.
I don’t understand that whole “cougar” thing. I like my men like I like my Scotch. At least 10 years older than me and strong enough to knock a hippie across the room.
As long as you don’t start whistling I think I can let you live.
Oh good, another donut-less meeting. There will be pickle talk. I hate the effing pickles.
No, I did not actually mean to print that, thank you.
I have no idea what that means.
Maybe they won’t notice if I just stay at my desk and worker bee through this meeting. Maybe.
Well that’s an hour of my life I’ll never get back.
Half an hour on “wellness”. Really? That’s an effective use of our time? Like they’re recruiting for a freaking cult. Resistance is futile! You will be assimilated!
Death of Spiderman, eh? I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before he’s back.
I’m going to take a moment and think about the size of my upcoming paycheck. It’s a good homicide deterrent.
In an effort to drink less Diet Coke I have now consumed entirely too much tea this morning. Oy.
I cannot get my glasses clean enough.
Exactly how many confirmation phone calls do we need to do?
I like cheese. Normal people cheese.
Your break is over, go do something.
I swear I will only listen to this song one more time.
Wow. So very tired of fixing your mistakes.
Generally there’s a reason for unequal pay. It’s called some people do more shit than you, so stop whining.
I cannot stop yawning.
Maybe it’s a stress fracture.
Lasik. That’d be cool. Stupid glasses.
I don’t like candy corn.
So so very very tired.
I might be wrong here, but I think it’s safe to say that your state of legal residence is not, in fact, Saginaw County.
You know, you saying “Welcome to Michigan” every single time someone talks about the weather isn’t nearly as clever or funny as you think it is.
First Diet Coke of the day. 2:55pm. I should get a reward or something.
It’s probably a good thing that I can’t actually kill you with my brain.
Dozey catnaps on breaks. Getting harder to get back to work.
Hell’s Bells! Wish I could drive over for this tomorrow! Good times.
On second thought, it might be safer where I am …
Oh Paul Ryan. I love you, you’re awesome, but that hair.
I don’t think I’d want to be a tree, actually.