Horny, hot and helpless
I hate being at work when I feel this way. 🙂
Day is uneventful, thankfully. Demure’s got a crisis on her hands so vile that she had to interrupt Kumquat while he was on the phone with the Prez, so she’s been out of my path so that I can do some work.
I’ve been planning the next two issues of the Veggie Patch Gazette, like a good little girl, and now I’m planning my trip for our annual conference, happening on the West Coast in late March. So much to do, but it’s OK. I just fear that the powers-that-be will want unlimited input into my plans and my schedule, because it wouldn’t surprise me one bit.
I’m bringing Mac Guy into the office on Monday, as he is not able to meet the Veggie Patch Gazette Summit on Tuesday. My vantage point is that I want to dazzle these assholes with how much forethought I have put into the next couple of months, but I am sure it will end up like it always does — “Aren’t you cute. Now go away.” But I’ll jump off that bridge when I come to it.
I resolve to put in a standard 40-hour workweek next week. And the week after that. I am not paid enough to shoulder all of this aggravation. I will take this experience for what it is worth — as a resume builder — and only that. I told Demure I did this for myself, not for them. But I guess today, I have a newfound appreciation for what my predecessor shielded me from, although they admit to monitoring me even more closely because of him.
Had a dream last night that a new editor (not me) was named, and I dreamed that that person kept going home at 4:30 every afternoon, and I was left to sit here all night and undo the damage they’d done that day. I did not like how I felt when I awoke this morning, after that dream. Not one bit. Here’s to hoping it was only a dream. …