It's five o'clock somewhere

Okay, the hand on the clock moved 1/2 a centimeter. It either means some abnormal catastophic event has slowed down the earth's gravitation thus slowing down time or it means I am avoiding the stack of paper sitting on my desk. We may only have a few minutes to hasten our exit to the door savoring our last moments on earth since our life is going to be taken over soon by the gravitaionaly challenged hands of the clock. How many trees had to give their life and limbs up so that I can shuffle another piece of dead wood around on a desk with meeting notes and doodles. Hey, my doodles are my tribute to that piece of tree. I think it would rather have a cartoon doodle than sophisticated words complied into a never ending cycle of complaints. Well, you think what you want. I'll just sit back in my permenantly cheek indented seat as my tribute to all of humanity and secretaries everywhere. Women of the work force raise your carpal tunneled hands high, because it's five o'clock somewhere