IT HAS BEEN FORETOLD
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I feel like bakers are trying to tell us something, you guys.
I'm just not sure WHAT.
Speak to me, Deadpan Penguin! *What is it?* What's wrong?
Is...
Friday, December 16, 2005
A Thank You Letter. Of Sorts.
So, I was hiding in my bed this morning when you called. I was still in a sleep stupor, so I opted not to answer. I started to wonder why you might be calling, since you've never called in the morning, and I thought, "Hey, maybe she's calling to tell me that they closed the office building for some reason. That would be nice..." Then I thought, "Dammit Kim, quit making excuses and get your ass out of bed!" So, then I took a shower, and remembered it was Friday, so I didn't feel guilty about putting on my favorite ratty jeans for work...Then I remembered that I'm going over to Nick's for dinner tonight, so I packed my favorite comfy pants...then I was waiting for the bus, and I listened to the message that you left...and it was such a great way to start my morning! I didn't even get bent out of shape when the person sitting next to me was so close that we were touching, which usually really bugs the hell out of me! Then...then I defied your thoughts on what a good person I am! So, the seat on the other side of me, the one that was not occupied by The Person Who Was Sitting So Close That We Were Touching? You know the one. Well, that seat had a few red and green candy sprinkles on it. A guy boarded the bus and took that seat without looking first, and I didn't say anything to him about the sprinkles, because, well, if you're going to ride public transportation, and you don't look at the seat before you sit down, you deserve what's coming. Then he got up at his stop, and I giggled a little inside...he had sprinkles stuck to his pants...then I giggled a little more inside when I thought to myself, "Cupcake Butt!". So, you see, I'm not nearly so good a person as you would like to think.
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