lunch

I come home at lunch. Jack likes the company and I like to get away. Jack is my dog. He’s a weiner dog for those who don’t know what a daschund is.

I also love to come home from work because it gives me a break. 7-11 and then 12-4. Not a bad work day. Breaking anything in half makes it easier to swallow.

I hate work. I hate it. It’s too easy and the women I work with hate each other.

It’s getting really old and annoying. They fight over the littlest things and think that the other doesn’t know anything. That’s the bad part, they are both know-it-alls that don’t know it all. One is older, probably 65 and the other is 50. The older one is slow at learning new things, which I think really means she doesn’t want to learn anything at all. The younger (if 50 is young) one is more competant in computers and design, but is lacking common sense and the desire to do more than she is told.

In my mind they’re both idiots.

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