You Get It, Right?

Still remembering and wanting you to remember too and wishing and hoping and wanting someone to find me and love me and take me home and call me George. Or Fred. Or me. Hey, you don't even have to call me. You'd be here, after all, so it would be weird if you called me while you are sitting with me. We could text.

Yeah, so today was another long day at work, almost twelve hours. Lots done, sent a first draft of the major project I've been working on for several months to bossman. Maybe that's the blog name for boss, after all, I do respect privacy and don't use real names online. The project is politically correctly subjugating (or is that usurping), ok, taking over the review of incidents and accidents for the county. My break from that project was investigating an incident of killer mold. What can I say, a few dozen firefighters filled out bio-hazard exposure reports. Yes, for mold. In Florida.

Work could be a sit-com if we took it seriously.

Narf :)