Something in the copy room garbage can is rotting. Rotten. Stinky. And I think the boys are waiting for me to give in to the stench and take the garbage out. Little do they know that it ain't happening. Lazy dickheads.
(She says, as she types an entry while still at work.)
Really, the smell is defining my Tuesday. Well, the smell and the snow. What a little, little life I've got going on today.
Not the stuff of long journal entries, that's for sure.