So you’ve had a break from Hell Hole #18.
Sure, you frolicked over the long holiday weekend aboloshing thoughts of your cubicle walls the very moment they entered your mind. You ate potato salad. There were chips. Perhaps dip. You slept in late all three days. No alarm clock to arouse you into subservience for eight consecutive hours. Then Tuesday morning arrived.
Now you’re sitting in the joint hating life.
I get it.
I really, really do.
But I want to encourage you to avoid the evils of the vending machine.
The stuff in there is evil. Pure evil. Not watered down evil but solid evil.
Your colon will thank you later.