At Least I'm Sure About the Chicken

Who's got the magic fingaaah?! It's me, it's me.

Okay, I'm officially losing my mind. That's what you get when you open doors all day with a button and forget to bring any personal work. But in the JP Morgan temp booklet (there is one), it states clearly that "no personal work should be done" and "if there's nothing to do call your superviser". I can't think of a more pathetic thing to do. Other than temping, that is.

The insanity also comes from the lack of sleep. It's been a rough few days what with my work schedule. The only saving grace I had today was lunch with my friend Gaia. We went to one of those salad places, and I got what I thought was the chicken and tofu, but the white blocks of food in question were too firm to be tofu and too bland to be cheese. The jury is still out. What's even worse is when I just started eating it and Gaia had to stop me to ask, "That doesn't look like tofu. Is it?" To which I responded, "Uh, I don't know..." and then kept eating. And you know what? I just don't care.