Here’s an example of how my Tuesday culminated. We got an email about an impromptu ice cream social on the 4th Floor. I literally–LITERALLY–said out loud, “The 4th Floor? I thought the 4th Floor was closed for all the construction. Really, the 4th Floor? How are we supposed to get to the 4th Floor?”
Yeah. I work on the 4th Floor.
And then I went home and randomly burned my middle finger on a grilled cheese sandwich.
Things can only go up from here.
