oh, that would explain it.
there's nothing like the mood i'm in.
work work work señora. work in twenty minutes. lacking car keys, buddy. i'd best find those.
eddies of wind creep in through the window behind me. a splash of warm air over my shoulders- it's high tide in comfortland. lap it up while it lasts, i'll soon be drowning in screaming kids.
congrats on the runway show, chlobo!