Wish that diarrhea from last night would have hit this morning so I’d have a reason to not be in my cube. PGP.

Understanding why Frank Ricard was excited for his big weekend trip to Home Depot and why he didn’t know if there would be enough time for Bed Bath & Beyond. PGP.

This whole Ray Rice thing really makes me wonder how many times someone has seen me pick my nose while riding an elevator alone. PGP.

I just want to have enough money so that I don’t have to think twice about adding guacamole. PGP.

I’m not working FIFO or LIFO. I’m working FILO. PGP.

Anytime I open a link in a new window instead of a new tab, I get irrationally angry. PGP.

Can’t tell if Tinder is broken or if no women within a 10 mile radius are interested in having sex with me. PGP.

The USMNT waiting to play until happy hour on Monday. PGP.

I can’t believe I was the best candidate for the job. I’m a dipshit employee. PGP.

Caring more about crafting a stellar internet comment than an effective work email. PGP.