I'm having lunch at my desk. I normally don't, but I'd rather write and eat my Lean Cuisine (flavor, not dieting) than go out and be tempted to spend money.
My coworker thinks I'm not here. She must. That's the only way I can justify why she and another person in my office are having a discussion about their sexual pasts without so much as lowering their voices. I now know way more about either of them than I care to (especially now that I've heard them reminisce about the 80s). I know I should plug in my Ipod, but it's like watching a bad accident in slow motion--I can't turn away.
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