Two things hit me this morning. Both loosely tied to reality. And both about 5 minutes before my alarm went off.
First, it`s Thanksgiving. And the French don’t celebrate Thanksgiving. I dunno why. Something about not knowing who Plymouth Rock is. Which meant that I had to get on up and go to work.
Second, and this happens every friggin` year, a birfday. Which made it all the more painful to get on up and go to work.
But. BUT. That silly French-kissing-on-both-cheek-thing they do? Yeah. Doesn’t seem so silly now, does it? Birfday Boy.
Even the Romanian girl down at the front desk got in on the action.
Action. Jackson.
Gobblegobble, ya`ll.
First, it`s Thanksgiving. And the French don’t celebrate Thanksgiving. I dunno why. Something about not knowing who Plymouth Rock is. Which meant that I had to get on up and go to work.
Second, and this happens every friggin` year, a birfday. Which made it all the more painful to get on up and go to work.
But. BUT. That silly French-kissing-on-both-cheek-thing they do? Yeah. Doesn’t seem so silly now, does it? Birfday Boy.
Even the Romanian girl down at the front desk got in on the action.
Action. Jackson.
Gobblegobble, ya`ll.
