FROM THE OFFICE OF THE PRESIDENT
The official record of an entirely unnecessary institution.
Our Halloween costume application has raised difficult questions about disguise permits, candy capacity, and the legal difference between a toe and a finger.
A routine vacation request has forced this office to consider staffing levels, temporary replacements, and whether a toe can take the foot with it.
After months of planning, our new hallway crosswalk has opened with two stripes, a borrowed whistle, and no agreement about what it crosses.
Our annual sock inspection began as a routine inventory and ended with a tribunal, a disputed heel, and one item under protective custody.
I commissioned one dignified photograph. Forty-three pages of specifications later, the toe has acquired a sash and supervisory authority.
Our first presidential dispatch concerns an unprovoked furniture incident, a disputed apology, and a peacekeeping slipper.