spastic hell printer must die

So this is what it feels like to be a slave to your job.

I swear, it never ends. Yesterday was a snow day, as I've already mentioned. Not only was I unable to keep from coming to work, but after hours they decided not to run the off-campus shuttle. I couldn't not come to work, and then I couldn't leave. First thing this morning I unplugged the Comcast box so that I won't spend every evening for the rest of my life lying on the couch watching crappy reruns in syndication. But that leaves me with nothing to do. (Nothing fun, anyway. I suppose I could finish unpacking, but what fun is that?) So I'm trapped by the job and trapped by the weather, simultaneously and individually. It's now 4:21 and I've planned my escape for today. I will be on the 5 pm shuttle and I will make my way to a bar all the way across town. I will be patronizing this particular bar because of its superior pool table. I will make my way back towards home at approximately 9 pm so that I will be able to hit a liquor store and stock up for all the things I've invited people to do at my apartment. (I doubt the other ladies who live and work here will be too keen to repeat a poker night if the first is as dry as my apartment is currently.)

Then, and only then, will I return to this crazy land of nightmares. What I wouldn't give for a repeat stint at Windermere Eastlake...