Well, the State Regulator Lady (who cares what her name is?) showed up at work today and my boss told me to make myself scarce. I'm not really sure why but I wasn't about to stick around and find out. Now I've been sneaking around our building for a good hour or hour and a half and I'm typing this from my phone in a dark corner. They'll never find me. I feel like Chris Farley from the White Ninja or whatever the name of that movie is. Only difference is I'm not fat, on cocaine, and swinging over walls on a palm tree. No disrespect intended, Chris Farley was hilarious. It's just that cocaine isn't my white powder of choice.
Tastes kinda oaky.