I can’t drink from the water cooler anymore. There’s something in it.
I’m not a complainer, but I’m the only employee who shows up for work.
Someone’s sending me messages after hours, I think.
I burned Bill today.
A lot of my writer friends suffer the same problem: they eulogize the living.
I gave Bill a haircut today. Now he’s bigger than ever.
Bill, my desk plant, keeps growing. He won’t stop growing. Dear God, make him stop growing.
It was a snug fit, but I managed to pull myself up from the bottom of the lunch box.
“Hello,” I said. “I bet you weren’t expecting to find me here.” I wasn’t.