This post is probably grosser than my usual writings. You've been warned, so no whining.

When I got back from lunch today, I warned a coworker that if I keel over dead, it is not from foul play. Nay, I've simply died from injesting some seriously scary leftovers. And I'm not talking about "steer clear of the bathroom" sort of leftovers. Like, I'd skip that part and just fall over dead. I should probably say my goodbye's to loved ones and burn journals that I don't want published. But I have to work, so I guess I'll just have to die here, with things the way they are. However, if I don't die, and the leftovers cause me no harm, I will smile more as a token of gratitude. We'll see what happens.