The time I farted at work. Or why I should sometimes just stop talking.

This isn't a story I would normally share. The problem though is I can't stop thinking about my stupidity with the whole thing. 

So I start my day more or less (usually more) by eating a shit ton at breakfast. On this particular morning I had made myself scrambled egg beaters, 2 english muffins, a yogurt and 3 cups of coffee. You know, the usual. 

I sit back in my chair and go into a brief, blissful food coma. 

"Shawn" you say. "You're at work" you say. "Shouldn't you be working?" you say. 
To which I say, "Work if they're watching"

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