Time for one of my last-break posts bitching about whatever. It’s one of those crampy days when I am overly anxious to get home. I have ideas I want to write and it is supa busy here. Plus it is Friday, and Fridays are always teh wanting to leave days because of impending weekend.
Oh, I do not think I will have a chance to type anything today, actually. I think I’m going out to lunch wis item, and then I have peectures to work on. Well, whatever. Nobody could guess the pairing I’ve been writing today in a million years; I suppose it can remain secret a little longer.
I could be wrong, but it seems like Gregory’s girlfriend eyes me a lot. He bought me lunch today… is she worried? I wonder. Gregory is a highly acceptable male-type, and maybe she can tell I think so. But whatever.
Less than two hours left… weeeeeeekend….
Gregory’s girlfriend works at the call center too??? Why is he bringing you lunch??? Did he bring her lunch??? If he didn’t, and I were her, that might make me a little insecure too. . . but you may be reading it wrong. . . shrug. . .
~FS
Lunch with item? I want lunch with item.
Lunch wis mom and missionaries, I meant. But it got canceled because our sister is suffering after her surgery and mother was being teh nurse for her.