No. I'm not sick. At least not yet. Maybe. Woundup is a notorious hypochondriac.
You know it's been a rough week when you go to a co-worker's going-away party just to get a drink. Get in, get out, and... Hey! Back to work! Fantastic.
I'll stop my griping. It's always darkest before... how does that go? Maybe... maybe my personal strife will draw readers in. They'll come back to read of my travails. It could be a WeBLoG hit. When is that drink coming?
Friday night. Counting down the hours here. Somebody write me or something. Leave me a note. I don't know. More later...
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