wt ?

Out of the blue, or because I drink tons of coffee and eat a hugeawful amount of chocolate right over top of my computer, my F key started getting stuck. I suppose I could clean my keyboard. Better yet, I could just do what I do and have to retype everything and curse and moan at my computer for not being a Mac because Mac’s never have problems because they’re cute and shiny and perect. Or, perfect.

This little annoyance became exceptionally problematic when I had to write a weekly update to all employees where I work. We work in shifts. There are some shifts that need to be covered. Needless to say, without a keen eye and revisions of revisions of revisions, I might just have told everyone I work with that “we really need to get this shit covered.” Which, of course, we do. But I could already see the frown developing on my “Professional Writing” professor’s face as I read over that sentence. And I really really liked Dr. Whatever Her Name Was.