Okay, so I lied. One week(ish) turned into two weeks. (Three weeks, if you're really paying attention.) But life happens and things become hectic. Are automated phone messages ever truthful when they ask you to hold? No. They tell you they'll be with you momentarily--shortly, even--and the next thing you know you've been listening to second-rate muzak for 45 minutes that even John Tesh would find abominable.
I didn't make you listen to muzak though. Because this is a classy blog.
But if you insist:
That's about as amped as drinking chamomile tea.
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