What One Girl Knows

At work. It's fifteen minutes before lunch, thank God. Mondays always drag on and on.

Me: I love Good Friday! Every Friday should be Good Friday!

Jason: Why? Because you like crucifixions?

Witty Jason. I wish I had brought money for Subway, but instead I'm doomed to an hour in our pit of a lunchroom (flickering fluorescent lights, stagnant air, an ancient TV that produces more static than picture and is always on, broadcasting soap operas).

Jason told me he wanted to get me an actual bunny for Easter -- only he didn't know where to purchase one. I convinced him to wait on the bunny until after our trip to Dunkirk. Rabbits + cars are not a good mix. Rue + car is already a complicated equation.