Only a four day week but it felt like six. I am glad for my train ride home sometimes. It is thirty-seven minutes of my day dripping off me onto the window, the seat, and the floor.
Which is okay, because it can mix with the Mt Dew bottle, the Willamette Week, and the other random trash here and there.
It's a busy train, but that is expected for this day & time. Nobody too interesting around me, although there is a strong garlic smell. Very.
This weekend I sense fun.
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