Fridays Were Made to be Late

...and so I will be; late for work, for sure. I sit here, spilling pieces of polvoron all over myself (it's like crack to me) and - it's in my f'ng hair! How did I manage that?

Printing applications for work; we need a new jack, but corporate is already whining about how much they want to pay them (they're not big fans of the new minimum wage).

Although this is new to me, I'll probably stop until tomorrow. I have some schoolwork to do, not to mention pay attention to Bubba and the Mrs.