I had trouble getting up this morning. I hit snooze one time.

Last night, I foolishly came downstairs, though I really didn’t need to, and stuffed my face. I’d done well prior to.

I should never have brought home Twinkies. I don’t think Desmond even eats them. They will have to go in the lock box.

Last year at this time I was absolutely on fire with the program. I was the skinny girl on my Lock Screen. I don’t know why autocorrect capitalized “Lock Screen,” there, both times.

Lock Screen. LS. Huh.

I had the bizarrest dreams last night. I need to stop watching Desmond’s object shows. I can’t even begin to explain to you what they are. Google Battle for Dream Island.

My coworker’s last day. I’m going to try not to cry, but I’m afraid I might. Is that silly?

Derek was sad when Kim left the billing department. So maybe it’s not so weird. They were close, though, and still are. I don’t think this is quite the same thing.

I’ve got the kid to get to know, now. He’s a good boy. Very young. Young enough to be my son; it’s weird how old I am.

But I’m going to be fairly useless to him when he has questions. The blind leading the blind. Because I haven’t been out on the floor that much. Haven’t learned the tugger, yet. Soon, I think.

Okay. 5:25. Better get going. Have a great morning and a safe commute. Thanks for reading.

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