So I was like totally at work, and there was like no one coming in. I mean who really wants to pay to like see totally old things. The stupid judge said that working at the museum would make me appreciate other people and quality. It wasn't really my fault that my nail polish tipped over while we were at the state capital, and the old musty desk I was sitting at got "destroyed." It's not as if the old dead guy is actually going to use it again.
"Sally, have you finished dusting all the museum's desks?"
"No, Mr. Meyers. I"ll get right on it Mr. Meyers."
I was so not going to get right on it because my new blue mini from The Buckle is not like a $120 dust wrag, but the old stiff doesn't really get that.
... More to come