Tales of a waitress who escaped the restaurant industry and then discovered a desk job kind of blows - so I put the apron back on. And I deliver pizza because getting paid to drive around listening to music is pretty awesome.
Just six more hours of crappy music, a cranky Lapdog, the threat of a secret shopping bigwig, stupid customers, and the smell of grease. Six more hours, then 48 of freedom. Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile