I’ve gone out six Saturdays in a row. I need to cool it this weekend. PGP.

Happy Hour is no longer an option. It’s a necessity. PGP.

I need to get new friends, but I won’t. PGP.

A girl from Tinder just found me on LinkedIn. PGP.

I’m still hourly. PGP.

My company’s life insurance policy makes me worth more dead than alive. PGP.

My only active group text message is with my parents. PGP.

The only email I sent today was to a coworker, regarding a fantasy football trade. PGP.

The guy next to me eats 8-10 popsicles a day. PGP.

Bringing your lunch to work so you can afford to drink after. PGP.

People you’ve never met endorsing you on LinkedIn. PGP.

I cant decide whether to sleep or celebrate your wedding this weekend. PGP.

Can we all just agree that the international sign for “Leave me alone” is eating lunch at your desk? PGP.

Dreaming about retirement three years into the workforce. PGP.

Spending your birthday weekend as part of a bridal party. PGP.

I have managed my company’s NFL tickets for three years. I am yet to go to a game. PGP.

My coworker just got engaged to someone she met on Tinder two months ago. PGP.

Shamelessly “nice work”ing all my comments. PGP.

Skipping happy hour to take your dog to the park. PGP.

My recent calls consist of a mayor, drug dealer, our HR rep, a state senator, and three Tinder girls. PGPM.