I’ll write a snippet or two. Can you write two snippets? Wouldn’t that just be an elongated snippet? And wouldn’t that, in turn, no longer be a snippet, but something greater—like, a tidbit? An excerpt? Definitely not a morsel, a morsel is smaller than a snippet.
I’m back at work today. Monday I was under the weather (figuratively) and Tuesday I was under the weather (literally). I’d hoped to get into work as a form of distraction, but I’d forgotten that, in a mad rush to get out the door, I did most of my work on Friday. I still have stuff to do, but not as much as I’d thought. I know better than to space it out throughout the day, though—as soon as I do, the mail will come, and I’ll have a shit-ton of work on my shoulders.
I just finalized the details of a very important guest post, by the way. It took me a while to get the guest blogger to agree to do some work on my blog, but I can be persuasive (read: I begged GB to write about a topic that I just can’t). As it happens, though, Guest Blogger requires that I put up their post by the end of the week. Which is funny, as I can’t do much about it until I get the writing from them. Oh well, I’m sure you’ll enjoy the post. Look for it by the end of the week.
Wait, no hint?
Right, a hint. Okay, fine. Here you go: readers who make astute observations, or have kept up with my blog for a while, already know GB. That’s all you get.
EDIT: So, on my way to the kitchen here at work, someone decided it would be a good idea to pull my chest hair (no, I’m not wearing a disco shirt, I just have the top button of a polo undone and I’m secretly Bigfoot). Pulling my chest hair hurts, so I let loose with a semi-loud “goddamn!” and continued on my way. The woman who pulled my chest hair said “Hey,” followed me, and….
Chest Hair Puller: You…you said a bad word.
CHP: You said it, “God…”
Me: I don’t see that as bad, really, and I’m not entirely sure I believe in God.
[CHP exits, flabbergasted and confused]
I didn’t say what I said to hurt or offend anyone, just being honest. I know one thing though—my chest hair won’t get pulled at work again.