The office, it is quiet today. There were quite a few sick days called in, and walking the floor makes me think of the afternoon before a holiday. The rest of the office has a grey cast to them, like zombies. Zombies stuffed with smoke, beer, and jalapeno poppers. Oh Superbowl, you have become a dreaded day of overindulgence. I escaped your wrath this year, but only just.
You can hear the headache on everyone’s voice. Everyone slid into their lizard brain to consume massive amounts of shitty light beer as to better yell at their television, much like how everyone becomes Irish on St. Patrick’s Day.
The quiet is nice.
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