Ah meetings. Today, I sit here clack-clacking at my keyboard, monitor turned surreptitiously (and somewhat neck-breakingly) away from the meeting going on behind me. This is from well-honed instincts to cover up what's on my screen, begun by hiding porn and illicit IMs from my mother in Middle/High School and furthered by my old boss, who was constantly looking out for me as though I had porn and illicit IMs on my screen (which I most certainly did not).
As with all of these meetings, the ice is broken by everyone listening to the (not funny) stories compiled by the head honcho between meetins. He finishes and they all chuckle at his inane tale about Deal or No Deal? or how his dry cleaning was messed up, God forbid. During this time, I cut myself with staple removers (which look like fanged rabbits). *cutcut*
I really have nothing further to write on this topic as I can tell it would simply send me into a frenzy of vicious rhetoric against both my job and the corporate world in general. This would bore my audience (ha!) and myself.
Last night, I saw "The Lives of Others," a lovely German flick about pre-Berlin Wall-tearing down Germany. It followed this dude who followed this couple and became a mite obsessed with them. It's delightful and everyone should go see it. but see Pan's Labyrinth first, because it is a superior film. Ok, I'm angry at my job again, so I should sign off here.
(Defiled) Unicorns and Candy Canes,
Henry A. Tilney
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2 comments:
Did you at least get to steal leftovers from the meeting? That's one the main perks of my job — eating other people's scraps. It's halfway between professionalism and homelessness, just the way I like it.
Why eat leftovers when I ordered the food in the first place? In between ordering and when the delivery arrives, I like to rub the "sugar daddy" platinum Amex card against my chest, just the way I like it.
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