ReaderFriends, I have something shocking to tell you.
Every once in a while I get a bee in my bonnet, and bristle up pretty easily.**1
Sometimes it's because my hair doesn't work quite right. It's being limp, or crunchy, or too exciting, and living underneath it is more than I can handle. So everything else that day goes wrong, based solely on my folicular conundrum.
Sometimes it's because I was having a fantastic morning at home, getting lots of stuff done (or maybe getting nothing at all done...) and didn't want to leave home and come in to the office. So I pitch a hissy fit, and stomp my feet and knit my brow and fuss about in a general direction.
And sometimes it's just because people suck.
Today, I'm picking Door Number Three.
Which means I've spent an inordinate amount of time imagining how much simpler adult life would be if there were still On Duty Individuals around to put the stoopidheads in timeout. There wouldn't be an empty corner to be found.
**1 You're astounded. I can tell.
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