Much of my work day revolves around eating. This morning I was packing up some thangs to shovel into my mouf hole throughout the day, and I lingered over the fruit drawer - what to choose? A run of the mill, unexciting apple, or a ripe and juicy black plum that I just picked up yesterday? I contemplated saving the plum to enjoy as a pick me up for the mid-week doldrums, but then I said to myself: Just get the plum, Sams. I'm not trying to f*ck around with greatness today.
I don't really know what that statement means, other than that I think about fruit way too much, and am very strange.
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