At the end of Thursday, July 24, I'm not sure I'm going to survive another twelve hours.
And this is all coming a week before I have to head back to the cubicle farm, where I went today to pick out my cubicle. Working from home has been utterly awesome; I'm sad to see it go away because it made other people sad.
Sadder still to be dealing with some arbitrary editing conventions that exist only in the netherworld, not necessarily in any of our written standards. I have, at this point, given up on trying to outguess said netherworld.
That appears to have paid off, since the last word from the netherworld is that the situation is "error prone," and will be stopped. Until the next directive arrives, of course.
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