You know, there's this nasty rumor I keep hearing at work about my having to go in at six o'clock in the morning for the next week, and the worst part? It's absolutely fucking true. And just so you know, no, I am not a farmer, ER doctor, Starbucks employee, or rooster.
The good thing is, if you want to get technical, I'm kind of a mailman, which at least means I have that psychotic-killing-spree option open to me. (Just kidding! See? Mass murder is funny! Hey, stop staring at me like that. Bugs will stick to your eyeballs.)
Six in the morning?! I so don't get the reasoning behind getting up that early for anything. I kind of like the little delusional scenario I've got going on in my head, which is that somewhere between the hours of two and six in the morning, everybody on the planet vanishes for four hours and is replaced with an eerily lifelike carving of themselves made out of eggplant. (I like my delusional scenarios, damn it. Hell, they're what kept me from being sent over to Iraq to liberate the sentient kumquats.)
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
