Not at all like having a dinosaur.

There's a rogue lizard terrorizing my living room and possibly my bedroom and my cat is of no help at all. My friend was like, "Oh, just leave it alone, it's like having your own little dinosaur." But it's not like that at all. Because dinosaurs are awesome and fierce and lizards are squishy and unpredictable and can't even walk upright.

Just now I was munching on some chocolate covered espresso beans, because I am fancy. First I ate cheese and grapes for lunch, then I munched on espresso beans. Anyway I ate a tiny one and it turned out not to be a chocolate covered espresso bean at all, rather it was a chocolate covered rock. I was not amused. I saw this show on TV about this woman who was addicted to eating rocks. She ate a rock every day. When I watched it I was like, ugh, how can she stand those rocks on her teeth? And now that I've eaten a rock, I'm like UGH! Rocks on your teeth is gross! It's like a leadless mechanical pencil scratching on a post-it pad. Shiver-inducing. Not pleasant at all.

This is completely not related to eating rocks but I just heard my co-worker advise someone that he can use his HSA account to buy a seeing-eye dog. Hahahahaha. That's insurance humor, right there. You know what else is insurance humor? And by humor I mean, you have to laugh or you'd stab yourself in the face with a Bic pen? I have this group I'm working on and the lady emailed me and was all, what's up with this, the carrier has me listed as a man. So I emailed the carrier and told them hey, that person is a woman. Then the carrier emailed back and said, that person has always been listed as a man, for 2 years. Can you triple-check that it's a woman? What the heck, insurance company? What do you want, photographic evidence? It's no wonder people hate insurance companies. Totes ridics.

Have you ever watched that episode of NewsRadio where Bill McNeil's desk turns into the office dumping ground? Well, I think that's happened to my desk. I was away for a moment and a random pencil appeared on top of my files. And a half-empty can of Diet Coke. And a business card with peanut buttery fingerprints. Excuse me while I go vomit. It's not really a mystery as to where these items came from, but it is a mystery as to why they are on my desk. Maybe I will throw them in the trash.

I think maybe chocolate covered espresso beans and rocks give me a headache. I'm going to google it. Meanwhile, you should probably enjoy this picture my friend took of a tiny dinosaur standing next to a rape whistle. I am strong. Rawr!

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