I wish I had one of the bags of sour cream from work at home with me tonight so that I could beat the crap out of it. Seriously, pound all the thickness out of it, four times as much as I need to at work. THAT'S how freaking irritated I am right now.
Why? For no concrete reason, but for a reason I'm 75% sure about. I'm not going to say too much more, but if a whole bunch of little clues add up to what I think it COULD be, then there's a BIG lie at the other end. And I HATE lies.
No joke, if I had a punching bag in my bedroom right now, Julie would be calling the cops, thinking someone was having the shit beat out of them. But now, it would just be me, probably beating the shit out of my hands.
Please, God, let me be 75% wrong, and let the right path be being taken. I don't want to believe that what I saw could be the truth.
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