Yesterday, I entered the lobby of the office building in which I come to do my daily work for Dazzling Company of Masterful Success. It was raining pretty hard, and I had my umbrella. I saw that there was a 14-foot stepladder folded open right in the path coming in from the door. It took the full measure of my restraint to refrain from opening my umbrella, right underneath the ladder. How I longed for a mirror, some salt, a black cat or two...
Then today, someone sent me a text announcing that she was "expecting 12-24 inches in my parts" and would therefore likely need to work from home...
All I could say was "yikes."
I tell you, sometimes, it's just not fair that I have to be a grown-up professional type person. My inner Bill Murray wants out. And I'm talking about the Caddy Shack/Home on the Range/Meatballs Bill Murray, not the Razor's Edge one. Yes I know it's the same guy. You know what I mean.
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