I get to the r.e. office early because I need a parking space. The parking will be tough because a snow emergency will be declared at 5:00PM, that means that no cars can park on the main drag, the drag the office is on, so the whole displacement theory will be in full effect.
I walk in the office and I must be sorely missed because I wasn't left alone and chatted up worse than I was in the Hall. The office manager asked me how I was five times, five times I kid you not. After number three I was thinking of symonms for fine because maybe she wasn't getting that I'm doing okay. Really, I'm okay, truly. Despite the tone of my posts, I'm well, quite well.
Look at my complaints, they are pitiful.
I have heath, a good paying and at times meaningful job, a huge house, 82 acres in VT, a newish truck, a hot chick that doesn't mind me hanging around, family and friends that are more aces than jokers, I even have some skills.
The con, I don't live up to my potential, basically, and whose fault is that. That's it, that's all I got for the bad, all the mal is a result of that. My most pressing problem is furry tailed rats that like to live inside my house.
Mal?...Did I just write mal into a sentence? Isn't that spanish for bad or a prefix that means bad? Eh, I kinda like it so it stays.
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