i work in hell. i am convinced that if you pulled the ceo's face hard enough, the latex would peel off in shreds and there would be: the Dark One Himself. i cannot possibly continue with this...more work, fewer people..no raises...lunchtime car cries- all the cars lined up in the secret cul-de-sac we all hide out in to smoke, and now - cry. i may use this as a business advantage and charge a toll to enter the street. maybe sell smokes out of my trunk, like a schoolyard crack daddy. these are the thoughts that bring me warm comfort for an hour each day. yes. i am so ready for a week in the woods. if you go, and see me curled in the fetal alcohol position in a corner - leave me. and don't move suddenly nearby. thank you.