The Joy of Bows

I don't have a lot to say. Mostly because all I can think about is work and how there's no way I'll finish everything I need to do before Friday. But that'd be such a downer. I could tell you how I worked through the weekend or until 7pm yesterday. Or I could go on for paragraphs about stress, but you don't want to hear it. So I'll just say that for some stupid reason, I volunteered to be on the Holiday Party Committee. In my free time, I make stupid bows. Before last Friday, I'd never made a bow. Now I've got 10 to my credit. They're fancy bows too, all dangly and sparkly and bow-like. The first bow I made though, it was like one of those malformed clone creatures in Alien 4. You could see a hint of bow in its amorphous wiggly mass, but really, looking at it made me feel all Dr. Moreau-like. What foul abomination is this? I asked myself. Certainly not a Floral Bow. I took it out behind the shed and put a bullet in its head. So much for a Happy Holiday.