I am tired, and hungry, and still a little bit pissed off about work. "Hungry" will go away in about an hour, when The Husband gets home from work and we head to the margarita joint. We'll have to eat and run to make it to Granddaughter #2's high school marching band show preview. The bed is turned down, the coffee pot is set to come on in the morning, and I'll be ready to hit the sack as soon as we're home.
At work this morning, I busted open Year 11 and sent workers to bring the next year. They came down with from the attic with Year 12, but also with more boxes from past years that I'd thought were finished. I gave the crew a mild butt-chewing. When the lead guy explained that some of the boxes were turned to the wall and they couldn't see the labels, my head almost exploded. "Well, go up there and TURN THE SONSABITCHES AROUND," I told him.
Good grief.
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