... that I should happen upon this on the 18.5th hour of a 20-hour shift. It took a 20oz Diet Coke and 5 cups of fair trade dark roast before I could communicate in more than a series of unintelligible hoots, grunts, and clicks.
As you can see by comparing my actual consumption to the curve above, I never got to the God sighting part..
However, since God has never been accused of having a paramedic complex, but the reverse is often true... would I recognize Him if sighted?
Oh yes. The errant lightning bolts coming at me. That would be a clue.
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