No takers? What? You don't want a box full of hungry, surly kid? I'm shocked. SHOCKED I tell you.
Anyway, the answer to the Saturday question - what does She Laughs As She Runs mean?
It's what the name of our new town Euharlee means in a native American tongue. I like that very much. She laughs as she runs. It's got a gleeful quality to it that makes me smile.
Anyway, on a less cheerful note, I'm grumbling away at work feeling overworked, underpaid and just a wee bit under-appreciated. This absorbing someone else's job for a raise a fraction of what they were making sucks ass. Tiny violins, do I hear them? Well, the first person who offers a comment that I should be glad to still have a job gets the kid in a box, ya hear?
Besides, the last thing workers need to be doing is piping up with the corporate "be glad you've still got your job" line to each other. Fuckery, y'all, that's the kind of thinking that will lead to all kinds of worker abuse and erosion of rights. Chew on that.
Well now, didn't this post just take a nasty turn. See what happens when reality meets depression meets more reality meets haven't had a fucking vacation in three years meets Mr. Phentermine meets chocolate chip cookies for breakfast meets me?
Oh, and a song I've been humming to myself. Take it away, Bob.
Because I said so, that's why (she growled).
*About the photo - I could use the Quiet Room about now.