Eight hours in. I ate a cubano-spiced wrap and some tapenade on gorgonzola crackers. I took a nap. When I woke up I mournfully swigged some "lo cal" pink lemonade and decided that one way or another I'll be day drinking tomorrow.
I had accidentally left my outlook open and around 12:15 pm an email popped up. I briefly caught sight of the words "911 dispatcher," "suicidal," "police," and "address but no phone number" before hastily shutting that shit down. If you don't call me through the service it doesn't count, motherfuckers.
Now I'm watching Chopped: the Food Network All-Stars tournament. I believe it may be possible for me to make it through this entire shift without doing anything constructive whatsoever.
I hope Mrs Gideon will be here soon.