My breakfast.
Seriously.
A can of Coca-Cola and Goldfish? Yeah. And as long as I am tied to my cubicle, vending machine fare will remain my constant diet. I don't know if evolution really prepared us to sit for 9-plus hours a day in gray walls lit with a glaring computer monitor and harsh fluorescent overheads.
Today, work is as about as appealing as sticking my bare hands into bee-covered poison ivy while naked in a field full of broken glass and rabid baboons on a scorching hot day.
If you love me, which you very well may, please appreciate your local alternative weekly paper so my hours will not be in vain.
(Seen on my desk, some random time today. And note that "Baked With Real Cheese" doesn't necessarily mean there is any real cheese in said crackers.)
0 comments:
Post a Comment