Over-experienced for jobs you don’t want and can’t get hired, under-experienced for the jobs you do want and can’t get hired. PGP.

My inbox is full, but my life is empty. PGP.

That awkward moment when three cups of coffee have you feeling like you’ve been doing blow with George Jung for the past four hours. PGP.

Oversensitive automatic flushers in the office bathroom. PGP.

A one-year subscription to the Jelly of the Month Club is $215. Griswold was an ungrateful SOB. PGP.

The office wide email when someone has a baby. PGP.

Touching base. PGP.

There’s someone in this city that wants to have sex with me, right? RIGHT?! PGP.

My knees hurt just watching the NBA. PGP.

“This doesn’t leave the room…” conversations. PGP.

Went to bed last night with a smile on my face, thinking about the coffee I would have this morning. PGP.

When your LinkedIn photo is from your fraternity formal 5 years ago. PGP.

Standing at the urinal minutes after you’ve finished peeing. PGP.

Constantly being on the verge of a meltdown. PGP.

Marking an email “highly important” to let the secretary know we’re out of french vanilla creamer. PGP.

Damn, I missed the sun again. PGP.

Googling “food” to find somewhere new to go for lunch. PGP.

Being able to tell if it’s your boss passing your cubicle just by the sound of the footsteps. PGP.

My neighbors’ kids stay up later than I do. PGP.

Getting rejected for a volunteer position. PGP.