So I think I discovered what they were meaning when they told me about flexible work hours: that you know when you start but don't know when you finish. Arse.
Then I set my priorities: yesterday I got home at 8 pm and worked to put the fingerboard up: the fridge in my kitchen is as empty and cold as the Gobi desert in winter, but the mother af all fingerboards is up and shining.
Forever may she last.
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