This morning I went to work at six to unload the truck, and I thought I stacked the boxes especially neatly. Later, one of these boxes had to prove me wrong and slide itself smack into my forehead as I was naively looking down, attaching giant gaudy beads to an outdoor chandelier. The thing almost knocked me to the ground. After I stopped prematurely grieving my own death and started feeling like I just got in a car accident, I slashed open the kamikaze box to find three sets of soft, pink, grossly overweight queen-size sheets.
I estimate that it took no longer than one second for the box to hit me in the head, the same amount of time it will take the chiropractor to fix my neck, except that I will be paid approximately $0.003 whereas the chiropractor will certainly be making at least an amount that doesn't round down to zero. Although actually, I cannot afford to go to the chiropractor, so I guess I am making more money per second after all. Probably the only sheets threatening his head are the ones on his bed, though. I don't know... I still don't think I get paid enough.
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