There’s something in the water. And everybody’s drinking it.
I did it. I reached the door. Now, I regret everything.
Sartre writes that hell is other people. Obviously, he had never been here. Continue reading morning coffee: Overtime (10.9)
I don’t mean to complain. I’m not complaining. I’m not a complainer, per se, but I’ve been the only team member to consistently show up to work for over three weeks. Continue reading morning coffee: Everyone is Dead, Maybe, Possibly
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. Continue reading morning coffee: A Third Inexplicable Leaf
It was a snug fit, but I managed to pull myself up from the bottom of the lunch box. Continue reading morning coffee: What I Saw at the Top
“Hello,” I said. “I bet you weren’t expecting to find me here.” I wasn’t. Continue reading morning coffee: What I Saw at the Bottom
How much time passes at the bottom of a lunch box? Minutes? Hours? None at all?