My last childhood kitty passed away last night. He was 16-18ish. My dad did me the courtesy of waiting until he knew I would be off of work to tell me
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Kevin and I are in a hotel because the roads are so bad. I wish that my district manager had let us go home earlier, but what does she care? She can stay home and sip hot cocoa and not give a shit about people like me who have to drive 40 minutes to work. Fucking retail.