Is it 5:00 yet?

Hey! it's 5:08! Thank you God! This day can only get better from now on. Now that sounds like I had a horrible day but it wasn't really horrible, just the usual. I just had a few stressful client situations to deal with so I guess that amplifies my sense of relief at the realization that it's already 8 minutes past 5:00 and it's also a Friday so it should be extra quiet tonight, thus lessening my chances of encountering and angry and/or stressful client on the phone by about at least 50% I'd say.

The previous paragraph was brought to you by the letter "A", for Allie! Of whose blog I've been reading all day. Also by t for tiredness, f for fed-upness, and r for releif that it's 5:15pm on a Friday and I only have about 40 minutes left of work.

P.S.

This reply/story by Allie is hilarious:

29. tactonrae asks: cake or pie?


Pie. And before you all go spouting off about your precious cake, let me explain: when I was 4, my mother took me to my grandfather's 75th birthday party. She had made him a beautiful cake, decorated with marshmallow animals. She locked the cake in a bedroom so that I wouldn't eat it. I don't know if I did it because she locked it in the bedroom or if I would have done it regardless, but somehow, I broke into the forbidden cake room and devoured the entire cake. The average 4-year-old's pathetic digestive system is not made to withstand that kind of abuse. Mine was no exception. My mother didn't even need to punish me.


And that is why I hate cake. And marshmallows.

That, and the "I got to call poison control today!" story, made me almost pee my pants laughing.