Holy shitballs.

So I’ve had a pretty shitty morning already. The parking lot was full so I was relegated to metered street parking, but I had no quarters. At Albertson’s I managed to pick the one register that could only give me a buck in change. I also picked up the wrong flavor of yogurt.

Anyway, I trudged over to my desk to find a mysterious package. Inside was this message:

“I SHOULD NOT WALK SO THAT CHILD MAY LIVE! I mean, here are boots for your feet. May you always have dry feet.”

Because the conan o'brien adventure fell through and I’ve always wanted to look like the gordon fisherman and slosh around in puddles, my friend went ahead and bought me rainboots!

You are awesome Heather!