I didn't want to go to Borders, but David had left a book I wanted to borrow (plane reading for my trip to Boston!) in my mailbox, and so I went.
I had expected the usual amount of nausea when I entered the breakroom - dread building with each number I pushed into the keypad - but as the door swung open, I saw themDozens and dozens of boxes piled
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should i dress up? =0p
ps. miss you!
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And he tells me I'm evil.
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