My work is never done...
So it's 7:47 on a Wednesday night, and while I should be sitting down on the couch with a blanket, some strawberry ice cream and American Idol, I am, instead, back at work. While blogging might not be an everyday work-related activity for anyone reading this (I hope not, anyway), I am not at my work computor, I am not typing this on an Office Depot computor while I wait for copies to be made, no, I am babysitting. I wouldn't really call it babysitting, though. Babysitting insinuates a "baby", when instead, I am the security blanket for my pal Caleb, a third-grader who basically takes care of himself unless he burns his popcorn...then it's my problem. I actually think that I am more of the security blanket for Caleb's mother, my boss. She loves her kids to no end, but tonight some friends asked her and her husband to go see a play with them, and she wasn't about to turn down an opportunity like that. She was so worried about who would be taking care of her
