That Tortilla Chip is a Total Tease

My office is getting some roof work.  I only know this because of a large sign posted in front of the parking garage that tells me to steer clear of danger from falling debris.  It does not give me any instructions on how exactly to avoid things falling from the sky.  I'm just supposed to steer clear of it.  To get in to the parking garage, I have to pass between the office building and this sign.  To even read this sign, I have to be in the danger zone.  Should I sue?

I have decided that the maraschino cherry is a nuclear cherry where it the cherry has been changed on a sub-atomic level.  Why this came up this morning, I'm not sure, but even though Wikipedia does not reference this fact, I know it to be true.  Actually the maraschino has quite the history.  Sadly, there is no society of maraschino cherries.  Perhaps I should start one.  My main competition would be with the Chanitcleer Society, who claim to be a "Worldwide Organization of Cocktail Enthusiasts."

Finally heard from my doctor's surgery coordinator.  I was mature for once and wasn't as impetuous as I usually am, and scheduled my surgery for Friday, July 9th.  Best greeting heard today, "Hi, this is Dr. N's nurse, calling to schedule your tubal!"  Seems I'll be getting a lot of insurance stuff and instructions in the mail.  Bleh.  I hate dealing with all the paperwork.  BOO!  Luckily my deductible is only $300, and for some reason they are saying I have already met $120 (I have no idea, since as far as I am aware, I have only paid copays).

On the floor of my work space (I do not have an office, just a space) are those plastic carpet protectors that my chair can never go over smoothly.  They are quite old and very stained and beaten.  On one of them is some beige and unidentifiable (okay, I have never actually squatted on the floor to inspect it), and every time I see this unknown thing out of the corner of my eye, I exclaim to myself, "tortilla chip!"  I get really excited until I remember I have never had tortilla chips at my desk, and even if it was a tortilla chip, it is a floor tortilla chip and has always been there.  Then I get bummed out.  No tortilla chip for me.

Twit is on her cell phone once again arguing with someone about her financial difficulties, especially when it comes to her community college.  If I had to guess based on how she fills out forms at work, that she hasn't submitted a single piece of correct paperwork to the cc, and therefore it is fucked up beyond belief, and no one knows if she's in school or not, and if she has paid for it or not.  She spends a lot of time trying to straighten this kind of stuff out.  I've seen faxes come in for her where there are items circled that specifically say, "Fill this out!," and you can tell she's already faxed it three times due to all the markings on the damn thing.  She just yelled at whomever is on the other end that she, "cannot talk about that right now."  I'm going to go ahead and assume she meant syphilitic brain.