This morning, the smell of gasoline greeted me at the door of my workplace, which is not a bus terminal or mechanic's shop but a library. Second time in a couple of weeks. It seems the ventilation system keeps grabbing air from near the snow plow storage area. Good times.
Also, I'm having an unusually difficult time finding the regular Necco conversation hearts. Yes, they taste sort of like chalk. Yes, they are full of empty calories and will probably rot my teefs out. But alas, I loves them and their cutesy-wootsy messages. Now all I can find are the fruity ones, and they sort of have a Windexy taste to them (I prefer the sidewalk chalky originals by far).
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