The post-lunch scramble to find an open stall. PGP.

Got my NYE party invitation. It’s in my company’s warehouse. It’s not a party. It’s inventory and it goes on until 10 p.m. Happy fucking New Year. PGP.

The only handicapped person in our office complex and I have the same poop schedule. PGP.

Monday, you son of a bitch. PGP.

Praying that my tax return will be enough to knock out a nice chunk of my credit card debt. PGP.

Facebook reminding me that I had a really shitty year. PGP.

May need to start doing a cost-benefit analysis for Christmas shopping. PGP.

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

My Halloween news feed went from a bunch of girls in slutty costumes to a bunch of babies in costumes. PGP.