I'm always eight minutes late to work, not because I can't get it together on time but, simply because all my clocks are conveniently eight minutes slow. Most other people I know would just change their clocks or mentally add the eight minutes and arrive on time. ( As I do for everything except work) Not me. It relates to my whole mind-set. If I change all my clocks forward those eight precious minutes, I just might find myself arriving on time every day and losing more than just eight simple minutes. Although, I know I won't arrive on time, because I actually arrived on time one day.
I changed all my clocks forward by eight minutes and found that I really don't enjoy being to work on time. The complete eight minutes that I was now given to work left me thinking about all of the things I could have accomplished before rushing through
All afternoon people come pouring into the diner, rapidly blinking from the lack of light, oohing and aahing over the combination of 40s and rustic Vermont decor. When they regain consciousness, begin reciting every joke they can think of involving the word "dam." The combination of cheesy decor and cluttered darkness doesn't mean that the food isn't good or that the locals lack spice. I've been told that it's the best "dam" food anyone has had in a long time, and the locals are some of the most colorful people I've ever had the chance to meet.
A year ago the locals terrified me, the word "dam" was barely in my vocabulary (except in times of reference or emergency), and I had never seen so much fried food in my life. Boot-camp reined in the kitchen and eternal chaos seemed to harbor itself in the dining room. My evening consisted of simply hiding
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