It’s Thursday. I don’t even know how that happened.
My brain feels like swiss cheese. I’m tired out of my skull.
And it’s Thursday.
I need to poke some bears at work tomorrow to get some balls rolling. Then it’s all about putting together text and more text.
I wonder if it was the snow. I’ll blame the snow. The snow is good to blame.
Now, it’s just icy.
Tomorrow’s Friday. As Vizzini might say, “Inconceivable!”
Because it is, really.