11 Jan 2010
4:32 pm
OK numero uno, Christmas was fantastic. But numero dos, re-entry (as always) is a rabid bitch dog growling and snapping at my ankles every time I start to glaze over at my desk. I can't remember the last time I had this much work to do. I feel like Mickey Mouse in friggin Fantasia (what? Your parents didn't let you watch 1940's cartoons that gave you recurring anxiety dreams? Poor baby). Every time I get one thing crossed off my list, someone comes in with a file box full of mystery hardware they want me to catalog. File under H for hideous, C for Crap, etc. Arg!
Whatever, such is the price of being employed I guess. Yeah that's
right. I've got gratitude. So what? Don't mutiny or anything, I'm still
the sarcastic little pain in the hoohoo you know and love. I'm still a
girl who'd rather stay up all night shagging in the new year, and
slather on a little (lot) more under eye concealer before my morning
meeting, than tuck in bright and early to look fresh as a dullsville
daisy for it. I'm still the girl who'll spring for the Stella McCartney
sweater and spend a month eating Campbell's twice a day to atone. It's
not like I'm all growed up or nuthin. It's just that I kind of (shhhh,
don't tell anyone) like my life. Don't you? Don't worry, I won't tell.
