Another zero day. I planned to run during lunch, but work obstacles cropped up for both Quint and myself, and a co-worker ordered a 28" pizza. He was very excited about the place - supposedly the most authentic NYC pizza in Tampa, even shipping in the water for their dough.
So basically, I sat on a pointless conference call, holding the phone away from my mouth, while I shoveled in greasy, overrated pizza, instead of running.
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