No One Here But Mio 👍


I’ve been putting Mio in my water, and now I’ve got that Police song “Message in a Bottle” stuck in my head. “Another lonely day, no one here but meeeee-oh…”

It’s okay, though. I like that song. “A year has passed since I wrote my note…”

Sorry. It’s really, really stuck.

In fact, there are other people in here. A full table of Spanish-speaking ladies, two old white guys, and Creepy Extruding Guy, who, by the way, looks at Nicole the exact same way he looks at me.

I guess that’s just his thing.

I’m feeling a little better, now. Not as negative. Maybe hopeful.

I saw Evan come in this morning, but he didn’t see me and was too far away for me to say good morning.

I still think he might not like it if I shouted, “HEY, SHOPVUE GUY!” from across the other end of the production floor.

I very nearly did that to IT Guy back when I was still in production and desperate for his assistance. Our program had been down for, like, three days, though. We had to do everything by hand, and it blew.

Those were the days.

No, I really liked production.

I just like the WH better.

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