In Which Tommy Am Tired

In Which Tommy Am Tired

Ever reach that point where your brain just says "fuckit, I'm going home?"

I've just spent the last five minutes thinking (and laughing) about how funny the word "barf" is. And I have no real reason to think so. It's just struck me as funny. I think it's time for me to go to bed.

I have one more day of this hellish work schedule. In theory. There's illness and strife all around my workplace, hence my having to haul my big dumb ass into the store every morning at seven since Christmas.

Tommy needum sleep. Please. Muchly, he needs it. Him brain est broken.