Something Something Page Views

It’s late. I’m tired. I want to pop into M&S for a ready meal and go home. But I’m trapped here and I’ve forgotten what it is we’re meeting for at this inconsiderate time. If I could be bothered to listen – but who can? Something numbers, something something page views…

The awful truth is, I don’t care. I must never admit this. How would it look? What kind of message would it send? So I pretend to know what what’s his name again is on about.

I suppose as the founder of the company, I owe them that much.


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