Moi: Because of [these boxes at the entry way of my cubicle], every time I turn around, I think there's something standing behind me.
Supervisor: So what you're saying is that you're paranoid?
... I guess so? I don't think my supervisor is reading me right. She also called me a 'hip hop goddess' 'cause I used the word "word" in an email. I don't think the words 'hip hop' or 'goddess' have ever been used to describe any part of me before.
The RMV sort of hates me. The way Jon's stomach hates lactose ("it sprays, like a gas gun"). The way Carol, Jon, and my skin hates alcohol. The way we hate Nate for not getting the Asian curse. But the post office loves me. As does Riles. And mosquitoes. I would tell you about all these stories, but not now, not with this attention span. Perhaps tomorrow, when I'm no longer working late to make up for the hours I missed this morning getting yelled at by the RMV ladies.
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