Holy menopausal maniac, Batman! The cat-piss is pungent and it permeates my office from the other side of this building, the east wing, or what is fondly dubbed “the cat box” by the women in the West Wing (of which I am proudly a member). Fucking politics, fucking women, always on the defensive, always worried that everything they’ve worked for is going to be ripped out from under them… taken away. I can understand that, though. I remember working in an office where I LOVED my job. I made great money, I enjoyed my work (for the most part), and I was fired. Office politics parading in a mask of email policy rules. Bitches.
I worked a miracle this morning. I did something that others said could not be done. In order to pull of this magnificent feat, I sweet-talked someone at the court, someone at an annuity company, and someone at an insurance company, had things faxed to me, had decisions made on the fly, and whipped together a 7-page form… all so that this kid can attend the same hearing as his sister, get his money released without having to appear with his parents on a separate date. Done 45 minutes ahead of the schedule that my phone-charisma had awarded me.
So fuck these petty little bitches. I ROCK at what I do, and I will only continue to learn more and get better, which is probably why they’re so freaky and intimidated. But I won’t take anything away from them. I’m a gracious winner (when it’s not a board-game).
School tonight! Woo hoo! That’s sarcastic enthusiasm, by the way. I can’t WAIT until this weekend. Friday night, a new do (hair, that is), and a party. Saturday, maybe a trek to LA for a new, nasty club (the nastier, the better), and relaxation galore!
Now, back to handling deez bitches… such an expert manipulator, it’s a good thing I enjoy mindfucking other people as much as I enjoy mindfucking myself. Oh, yeah. It’s an orgy over here at the law firm.