the storm is new to me and old.

30 minutes a morning inching along three miles of hell. Hundreds of people, and the problem won't be fixed. Hours a day. that desk, that hall step in step out, same combination over the same tiles no eye contact, and the problem won't be fixed. 40 odd weeks. Same thoughts, same results, same reaction; no motivation, empty head, clawing for an idea. Frustrated, and the problem won't be fixed. The electromagnetic field isn't descending quick enough, something needs to shake this up. You frustrate me too. I'm resisting the urge to be a trade in friend "Why yes ma'am, we can trade in the Camry for the Prius, should we toss in the complementary air-freshener with that?" look at me. don't apologize. have an opinion. don't be afraid to be wrong. Shriek for something, please? baked turkey on white, one green apple, one strawberry granola bar, one brown paper bag. I feel like japanese. 50 brown paper bags to go.