After returning from a late mid-afternoon break from 1530 to 1545, my personal jester talks to Rosemary about Happy Hour and stuff. I’ve not done happy hour, ever!
Then he mouths several times that Sally Struthers is a “beach” and rolled his chair into my workstation and wanted to find out what the fuck I was doing. I said just cleaning up the emails and decompressing after telling him about the price of fortune and fame.
Overall was a hectic day and I wasn’t all too worried about entering Wires and ACH/EFT payments, which already hit the bank but holds up their international orders because the invoices weren’t cleared.
Paulann couldn’t balance her international orders and was the thug of the boss and Rosemary and she said sorry she didn’t know because all workstation is overloaded.
My goal was to own/hog everything because I was a bit of a control freak (as per my Instant Message at work to Philip yesterday), in addition to adding an item of NOT saving anything into the local drives to next Tuesday’s meeting.
Lo and behold, yesterday, Adam the freakishly tall whitish guy with an upper back disability browsed through our personal folders and verified that my “audit” was fulfilled. That’s my “role”, really, as a consultant, and NOT as a low-level, non-thinking, paper-pushing data entry clerk.
My voice shall be heard (a la Hillary Rodham-Clinton). Only because it’s the correct path as CHANGE is always good, eh? But I’m neither a Democrat nor do I belong to any political affiliation. My association is “hidden”, of course.
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