“Crushing spreadsheets” is actually a term I catch myself using often. PGP.

I am visibly ill. My boss has yet to tell me to go home. PGP.

Too poor too buy my own lunch. Too fat to eat the pizza my boss bought. PGP.

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

The only greater hell I can imagine than being here for over two years is being the type of person that is willing to stay for over two years. PGP.

“Cake-eater” being more of a description of my diet than a ’90s insult. PGP.

My mom sent me vitamins. PGP.

When you’re still paying the price for going out on Friday the following Tuesday. PGP.

Staying up way past your bed time just to watch your team lose. Again. PGP.

Today, I received a stern talking-to. PGP.