daily – 5

But that’s a pointless thought and I shrug it off.

A short razzing accompanies a pair of emails from the office. I glance at the time: quarter to 4. I look back at the empty doorway for a moment, then face the computer again. Still three hours til quitting time in Oregon. I pop open Ingrid’s email and skim through her fourth report request today. More trending, but this time sliced chronologically; road coma stuff. Stuff my eleven year old son wouldn’t even bother with.

Stuff Ingrid won’t bother with either, because she’s got a bunch of system grinders without faces or voices who’ll do the work and never complain.

Over-educated idiots like me.


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