Work sucks even more than usual lately. I no longer feel a connection to our corporate core values, leaving a void inside me that I've been trying to fill with cheese. Suddenly I have a Tolerance for Errors, an Ambivalence toward Winning, and I find the customer a bit extraneous to the whole process. I want to solve problems in either three or eight steps, I want to lead ineffective meetings, and I think that we should focus more on the person than on the problem. I am now a Mediocrity Champion. Sigh.
So, I don't really know who I want to win Hell's Kitchen. I have a feeling it will be Michael, but he and Ralph are neck and neck right now. Both of them are somewhat slimy but likeable, so I'm torn. Ralph's fiance is quite a bimbo. Not that that's a plus or a minus.
I really need a vacation and I really want to go to the beach but I am just too damned fat at the moment to even contemplate swimming in anything other than a caftan, which puts a crimp in the beach plans and could cause unsightly drowning. When you have nooks and crannies for sweat to pool up in, being at the beach is just a reminder that you're a big ol' lard ass. I used to have a slow metabolism, but now I have none. Diet and exercise cause me to get fatter. Air causes me to get fatter. Not that the cheese helps, but hell, it's Atkins-friendly. If I believed in that stuff.
So, it seems that a small contingent from the UK office where I attempted to work for six months is coming over here to see what the upstart Yanks are doing. It seems (correct me if I'm wrong, BlanketMan) that my much-reviled ex-boss, the lesbian who married and spawned, is coming along. She hasn't bothered to contact me since I left, probably because I left early while she was out of town, but jeezy kreezy, I was A) told to do so by my real boss, and B) going to commit some sort of homicidal rampage if I didn't get out of there. So how do I handle this awkward meeting? Am I cool, sophisticated, and icily calm? Or am I warm and friendly, giving her a big unwanted bear hug and a lot of gushy fakeness? Or do I just curl up my chubby little fist and pop her like she deserves? She did call me a "crude Texan," so perhaps I can ask her to hold my spit cup during a meeting. I bet she pees standing up.4 comments so far