Now, the only thing I want . . .

I'm a commuter student, I'm taking one class and it meets four mornings a week. Between my lecture and my parking spot is a building endowed by some half-forgotten Mr. Sellack. This morning as I walked back to the car, my head full of alleles and dihybrid crosses and chromosome kinetics, my subconscious chimed in:
Please Mister Sell-ack, can I have my job back?
I worked here last year, remember?
I came when Annie was going on vacation
and I stayed on almost til December.
And I sang the song all the way across town to work.

The Roches website.

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