(no subject)

Sitting at work on the Friday before Christmas, waiting for the only
remaining boss-like person to either leave or tell us to go. All us
peon-types are whispering to each other and taking bets on when Joe'll
finally cave. My suspicion, though, is that there's a bosses' cabal: all
the managers and team leads take turns working late (or a full day,
anyhow) on holiday eves so that the mice cannot play.