Well, I’m NOT really caring about going overtime or not. I was supposed to clock out at 1550 pm today since I came in at 0700 am for work. The weekly staff meeting is normally from 1500 to 1550. So, maybe I’m an ideal candidate for salaried wages instead of hourly times. I kinda just rationalize that the company’s free goodies/intrinsic costs still more than offset the breaks I don’t take or overtimes I don’t record. I freaking really don’t care as long as the job is done. That’s how I operate.
Philip ended the meeting at 1500. Madam Cherie COO was planning a mandatory “fun time.” There was Cherie’s talk of bowling (of which I feigned painful adjustment of my right shoulder), mini-golf (of which I did a finger tip/face palm to my forehead, smiled, and giggled), skeet shooting (by Philip and of which I followed up that I’m licensed but long time ago), or jump in the lake and go swimming (by moi), and putting up pictures of happy smiley faces (by Rosemary).
Yeah, so don’t be afraid if I can pack a pistol or if I blow a short fuse everyday at work or if I’m being loud at my desk. I haven’t done it in years. But I can easily be activated, “shift” to defend for the common good. It’s in my reptilian bloodline. Holy crap! The whole place, nay the whole world, is full of toids. Freaking tongue flickers! I should take up smoking cigarettes but cigars, which smells better than pot. I miss the smoke.
Well, I wasn’t thrilled about the invoicing in Cherie’s meeting earlier. I sat next down to the left of balding Bob, the genius IT guy. I “sensed” he was uncomfortable by his subtle left arm block. I let out a few sighs. But I “sensed” that Philip knows a heck of a lot more than Bob. Philip knows how to “shift” his voice modulation around certain people and situation appropriately. Whereas Bob is a loud-ass bitch.
Sorry. It’s supposed to be Holy Week. We’re not supposed to be loud and obnoxious. I wonder why Philip seemed calmer. I sensed that yesterday. His unruly hairstyle hair was slicked back better that Monday morning. He musta had a good time at a fancy restaurant smeal deal with someone that he deeply loves.
(Hump. Easy stomach! Don’t hurl acidic chucks! It’s okay if old farts fantasize. Hump. Stop it stomach! Keep still! It’s not funny if these rotting geezers try too hard to live love and life to the fullest. Hump. I said it’s okay if you don’t agree. Just keep it to yourself. Hump. I give up. Just throw up already.)
Posted from WordPress for Android
Leave a Reply