My click-and-drag skills have peaked. PGP.

My supervisor walked in on me snapping a selfie and it led to a 15 minute conversation explaining Snapchat, “The Twitter,” and “the one where you can edit and share photos.” PGP.

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

I’m sad that my date canceled last minute, but relieved I don’t have to spend money tonight. PGP.

Running the dishwasher not because it’s full, but because you are out of dishes. PGP.

Boss is at the Phoenix Open and I’m stuck in my cubicle answering phone calls from his drunk ass every hour. PGP.

Coworkers who don’t understand that “headphones in” is the international office symbol for “leave me alone.” PGP.

The judgmental looks of spite you get when you drop off an expense report at Accounts Payable. PGP.

I have to fart so bad. PGP.

Having dozens of ways to improve the company that you never share with anyone. PGP.

Being too young to realize the extra responsibility you’ve been given as a result of hard work is more punishment than reward. PGP.

What in the actual fuck is Flappy Bird? PGP.