Thanks to the cleaning crew for throwing out my dinner for tonight. It was in the freezer and clearly marked, but when we were told to have our crap out of the fridge by the time we left work today, they clearly assumed that we would be out before a certain time. Hah. So now I’m hungry AND cwabbers.

OK, let me explain “cwabbers.” My friend’s 2-year-old gets crabby, so we call her crabby. Crabby evolved into “crabbers” and now that she can talk, it’s “cwabbers.”

So I’ve got a good three hours ahead of me and 10 hours-plus (and a 90-minute commute) behind me, and PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD do not say the word “Monday” to me. Just don’t. Because you’ll want a pot of drawn butter with THAT level of cwabbers! 😉

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