Memoirs of a Fat Girl

It is early in the morning, and I am at work without my cup of drugs. Go figure there's some kind of major gas leak in the subway pipes which slowed down service to a snail's pace, making me so late I had to bypass tea altogether.

As a direct result I am pale, grumpy and fighting with the last inch of my soul to keep my eyes open. No matter how badly I want to nap, and let me tell you the urge is *really bad*, I don't think it would reflect well on my job performance if I was caught resting my head on the desk. Even for just a sec.

Kinsmen, I caved, and spent the better part of my break standing in line for a Tim Horton's double double. For those of you without that knowledge, that's a big ole COFFEE full of SUGAR and CREAM, the wickedly wicked evils of life I have set out to avoid!

Lecture me, scold me, laugh at me and beat me. I'm so tired I don't fucking care. I have all day tomorrow to ponder the errors of my ways, but for now I just want to sit back and wait for The Power that is caffeine to tingle my fingers and rejuvenate the pathetic, fatigued mess that is my body. Booyah.