whenever i come around the corner toward the front desk at work, i can see plain as day that the receptionist has been playing solitaire or is on facebook. she quickly minimizes the screen, swings her chair around, and smiles nervously at me. i wonder whether or not i should tell her that i don't care what she does at work all day, if i should tell her about my blogging, blog reading, g-chat, and email addiction. i consider informing her that in the mornings, when my swash-buckling co-worker who sits 5 feet away from me is in the office, i have to be careful to not laugh out loud at my escapist internet dealings so that i don't get caught.
nah, let her sweat it out.