"WHO IS THIS?!" I yell, as all I can hear is a squelching noise.
"The fudge demon," is the response.
"But that's a whole different story," I squeal, fear forming a lump in my throat.
"You are right sorry..." Now all I can hear is the dial tone. I lean back in my chair and sip my ginger beer, feeling the stress leave my body. Monday, I think, monday at 6pm. I think about it so much it becomes a magical, almost divine time in my head.