Friday

  

Fridays have a bittersweet feel to them.

Okay, that’s not true–in reality, it’s an unrelenting vortex of bitter.

This is primarily because Friday is my “Monday.” The problem with this is a whole pile of the other employees here are in a classic work week: I have to watch them oscillate and emote while I vituperate and fester.

Such is why I’m using this redacted picture of me cowering on a long-dormant ALCATRAZ porcelain. Because it’s not too far removed metaphorically from “right about now.”

A real article will be here this afternoon. Until then, I rattle my tin cup and carry on.

posted while on the lam from day shift, SCJRF

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