Monday Morning

Just general low-grade anxiety about EVERYTHING in these parts; I expect to be over it by mid-day. It's one of those, "What are you doing, company that I've used as a major example of how to do things right, doing things wrong, before the book is already on store shelves?" types of day.

Look what you fret about, you silly girl! For this to be your problem, you don't know what problems are. My conscience is apparently a stout Russian grand-mama today, wooden spoon in hand, red cloth on her hea...