20 minutes to go...

The phones have been quiet...too quiet. All throughout the day they had been constant in their squealing and howling, but now they lay dormant...waiting...ripe with potential for last minute annoyance.

I sip my water and eye them nervously. Dare I go on Facebook? B.org? Check my e-mail or bank account? Or will the slightest move, the merest twitch set them to shrilling, opening themselves...and me...to the ear-bleedingly stupid questions and inanities of the World Beyond These Cubicles?

I can wait no longer. I will chance it...I move my hands...

• RRRRIIIINNNNNGGG!!!!!*

Curse you, Dark Gods of Fate and Fucktards! I answer:

"Thank you for calling [Company], how can I help you?"

"I haven't received my W2 forms yet."

"They haven't been mailed yet."

"Why?"

What can I tell her? Because we don't like her? Because we're viciously conspiring to delay her miniscule tax return just as long as we can? What? WHAT?!

"I don't know, ma'am."

"Uch! *sigh* Fine." *click*

A narrow escape. I lean back in my chair and eye the clock, hands shaking. I want a cigarette very badly, but I will wait...I will savor one as I make my escape to Freedom.

Sixteen minutes to go...

Yo, MM, I sentcha a package. If you don't have it by Friday, would you let me know?

Okey doke.

I posted some pictures of my mother's retirement party in facebook. My camera wasn't working, so there are no pictures of of TCG looking so handsome in his suit, but stepdad took some nice pictures of me and mom that I don't hate.

I copied some COMM posts to my mom and now she wants to read your forthcoming book, MM.

Ah, yes, my book it's nearly completed

It's entitled

MM's Random Ramblings

or

For God's Sake Step Away From the Keyboard and Take Your Fucking Pills!

Jilli, insent.

meep - haircut today. Too! Short! photos to follow. mebbe. or just a paper bag.

wrong thread. Sorry

I think MM should be Countdown #1 instead of Paul F. Tompkins and them(Joel McHale should do some nights because I like him, too, but...)