I have another new co-worker. Let me correct myself, a new office-mate. That’s right. I’m going to have to friggin’ share my office again, just when I was getting used to
being able to work there the solitude.
So far, the cards are still out on the new roommate, who I will call Curly Fat. She disapproves of Veggie’s lifestyle, but she has a tongue ring and she has to be over 40. She also tried to give me weight-loss tips when she saw me drinking a Fit and Lite Smoothie (70 cal, no fat).
I’ve already given her numerous warnings about how I will probably
hurt her feelings every day tell her the truth about everything, even if she doesn’t want to hear it, and that I’m not a gentle soul. She said she was okay with that, but I don’t think she was. A play on my mom’s favorite saying…”life’s a bitch and then you share an office with one.” 🙂
I was super-efficient Paperwork Chick today. I saw two clients, but managed to get caught up on every single MOTHER-LOVING piece of paperwork that the company rams down our already over-worked throats.
I did spend quite a bit of time on the phone today, trying to track people down, and I’m pretty sure I have my felony arson x3 guy (I know…WTF) a job. Not as a fireman, obviously. Hehe.
Turns out one of my more (excuse me for discriminating) trailer-trash clients really WOULD like to be a CSR and I’m working on finding a way to talk her out of it. Because, you know, I can’t just say, “Honey, you sound two steps out of the trailer park. Now get back in there and fry me up sumthin’.”
I had my echocardiogram (ECG) today. The tech was nice, but I think I must emit an aura of “PLEASE, tell me everything it is that you’ve been wanting to get off your chest all day,” because this guy would not shut up. It was fairly amusing, and I can see how this guy might feel like he needed to rant. If I had to spend my day with people aged 70+, I might be unprofessional and tell you all about my job, too. At least I just blog about it.
I was having a quasi-poor-self-esteem day. I think it might have been the underwear I had on, but I’m not sure. At any rate, I’ve been upgraded from Sexy Fat to Smart Sexy Fat by my baby.
As our friend, Kevin (who is from Arkansas), would say:
“It just don’t get no better than that. Nope. Sure don’t, sure don’t.”