Friday afternoon just isn't Friday afternoon if you don't get to watch two grown women in the staff room with $.60 between them, buying a Snickers bar ('cause it really satisfies, you know), searching frantically for something to cut it in half with, and then swearing when the pizza cutter won't go through the paper. Thank god there was a pair of scissors in another drawer to take care of that.

I got the SNIC part. Amy got the KER part. I'm more satisfied that she is at this point.

Also, defying thousands of years of tradition, as I ate my chicken-with-stuff-and-pasta lunch, all I could think was "this chicken tastes like ham."