Barb’s Burblings

In a sad turn of events, it seems that my work crush (well…one of them) is gone. It was inevitable, really; he was a student intern. I called him “Shuttle Boy” because I only ever saw him on the shuttle to and from the Metro. He looked a bit like James Franco and once he wore glasses. There were a couple of days when, on the shuttle after work, he wore gym clothes. Sure, he’s probably only 22 (note that he’s a student intern, which usually means grad school), but still, he’s dreamy.
Fare thee well, Shuttle Boy. You gave me motivation to go to work–I mean, heck, you made part of the commute fun!