One day, one day, la la-la la laa laaaa.
Last night I dreamed that I was doing laundry. I was doing load after load of laundry for superheros. Our fortress was being attached by detached heads of the Golden Girls, and my only defense was to spit at them as they floated around me menacingly. I’m usually quite a good spitter, but in my dream, I was getting drool on my chin. Yeah, so I was a bit confused when I woke up. Yes, I had been drooling in my sleep. All I can say is that Bea Arthur looks threatening when her head is angry.
I have but one day left at Abbott. Tonight we’re going out for drinks at Jesse Oaks, the most amazing biker/family/sportsbar ever. Hopefully I’ll have embarrassing photos of coworkers to show tomorrow. Against my better judgement, I’ve let the outsidcat out of the bag. Even my boss has my URL.
Like that stops me.
Just don’t tell my grandma, for fuck’s sake.
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