Oh, internets. I have hit a wall. I don’t know if it’s the Grandpa/hospital stress thing or because I woke up at 4:16 this morning and didn’t really fall back asleep again, but it’s only 6 o’clock and I would like to die. Right now.

Work this morning was not cool, y’all. Between the aformentioned me-> wall thing and the complete and utter lack of anyone of a customer variety, I spent most of the day draped dramatically over the counter, sighing loudly while Aaron laughed at me and said I looked like Scarlett O’Hara. This gave me a chance to say “Oh, Rhett!” in a southern accent, which I think we can all agree is always a damn good time.

We have Yorkshire meat pies. So despite the fact that now they make me think of Sweeney Todd (“Have a little priest!”), I am going to go eat them.

ETA: You know what wakes you up? Chasing a horse, that’s what.

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