I get to see babies, and babies make me smile.
Watching heart-wrenching parent-child interactions.
I get to draw.
I get to read books.
I get to read The Stranger as long as I cover up the extensive inappropriate ads.
I can do sudoku.
I can blog.
I can pretty much do whatever I feel like.
A lovely boss.
We get muffins at work meetings. Ooh!
Cute babies make me want one, too. This is unhealthy.
Nine year-old boys, the bane of my existence.
Parents who don't moniter their screaming, object-throwing, running nine year-old boys.
Explaining why we have to charge for adults. Over and over and over.
People who don't understand why we want them to leave at 5:00, when we close.
Blasting air-conditioner (though this could at times be a pro).
The TV that has no regard for the specific programming that I reprogram into it every morning.