Consider the Following:

Thoughts packed like small fish in a tin can:

• It's layering weather. Sweaters and scarves and nomnomnom. I feast on you, Autumn Temperatures. And you, Falafel.
• Holding in my bizarre behaviors for the common good and the common spaces at work. Ready to explode when the day is done. EGGO!
• Why does laryngitis always sound fake? You're telling me that you can only make little squeaky sounds? Hehm, no. I do not accept that excuse.
• J. Crew's final sale--you can't return it, but don't eff up your order, and you won't need to.
  
• Hiding light under a bushel: 30 pack of Sharpies in my desk drawer.
• Mind-exploding conversations around the influence of gender versus personality. How much of anything can we attribute to gender or personality: likes, dislikes, tendencies? Right? Did your mind explode?
• The Mom and The Poppa are in New York for the US Open, which means two things: House party! Laundry! In that order, but without the house party one. Yesssssssssssssss.