sigh.

You have got to be smoking crack if you honestly think this is a good idea. I mean really, did little brain eating gnomes tiptoe into your ear as you slumbered your bossly sleep in the night to munch munch munch away any semblance of grey matter you had previously developed? Because let me tell you something, what you want – the idea of a “senior” admin assistant in the position in lieu of an office manager – the idea that someone will do all of the work and take on the stress of a manager only to be paid on an admin scale – will send anyone with a shred of remaining sanity to the highest of hills.

You, my numskulled pal, have got to be planning a coup. That is the only logical explanation for your seemingly insane scheme. Perhaps you are not a total moronic pin head of a man. Perhaps, you are vying for the downfall of our office, you crafty stretched devil you. Did you buy stock in another firm? Or perhaps some insider trading is the vaguely masked cause of this sudden and inexplicable change of plan. As there is no way a sane and non masochistic person would come up with this proposal. That must be it! You are begging for the office to fail. You must be waiting, fingers terse and tented, for the call from corporate to lock the doors for good. Because if you follow through with this utter epoch of buffoonery MORE of your agents will soon succeed from our union gleefully running arms agape like rats from a burning building away… far far away… from our office and our company.

If you are not scheming for destruction, I cannot fathom your reasons save this: you want to save money. You want some asshole to take on the burden of drudging tight this rickety cart you call an office under the weight of ten thousand screaming infants while being corporally whipped until bleeding and foaming at the mouth all the while having to count pennies to feed their stomach and soul.


Well listen close as I do not want to repeat myself… I am NOT the asshole for which you yearn. You may well believe the job can be done by any fifth grader with the knowledge to tie ones own shoe but no… NO… you had that already. Remember? She was drunk, left her leg in the office, her heart at the bar, and peed on the furniture. Are you longing for the bygone days? Do you miss the smell of vomit and whiskey with your morning report? If you do, then by all means, continue down this path of sticky self destruction. Your actions bode well for that future. Organizational and mental health death is afoot. It is what is bound to occur.

fugfugfugfuggers

-wow- who knew it was possible to go from normal mood to i hate the world in less than ten minutes.

evidently i haven't been giving myself enough credit because i have made it to bitch and back faster than the speed of a prom night erection.

and i'm none too pleased about it.

why you ask?

wait... you don't ask. there is only one person who reads this stoopid fucking blog.

i'll just call her instead.

bitching, about one's job? how original.

so it is apparent, quite evident in fact, that i am not good with a secret. wait, let me make a small amendment to that statement. will i run tell when someone confides a bad case of crabs? nay. i keep others personal items in the close comfort of my warm bosom. also, am i one to blab about and spoil a surprise party? no, i would not tell if it would ruin a fun time as i am quite the fun time gal. what i am lacking in regards to secret keeping is the ability to hold gossipy secrets close. of what i have been harshly made aware today, is that i am not the best at keeping work gossip especially in check. i am also not good at keeping the fact that i am irritated a secret. does any of this make sense? probably not. so i shall expound.


me beloved boss, my office manager/college friend extraordinaire, is putting in his notice today. BOO i say! i love him, have known him for years n' years, he keeps me sane at this place of insanity. sad-weep-sniff-tear-cry. as mournful as his inevitable departure is, a possible upside exists to his leaving. the silver lining to this event is i will perhaps/likely be promoted to his position. that would mean an almost doubling in salary and the ability to make some positive changes in the ol' real estate office. now, you may be wondering, what is the problem with this news? why is discussing these details something about which i should bitch?


because i told an agent (who is cool, who gives no reason nor historic president, of sharing this news) about the departure and possible promotion BEFORE me boss told the top boss in our office (hereto referred to as "Big Boss" though there is probably nothing big about him... ahem) . the background goes a lil sumptin likea dis...


big boss promised mac (the agent to whom i spilled the beans) that if mac would return to our company, he would have a personal marketing guru (ie me). mac returned, i worked on his items. mac was heartily pleased. however, some of mac's items were subsequently assigned to others in the marketing department. mac did not care for this as said items were delayed/a lil fucked up/crowded with the endless amounts of other work the marketing chicks must complete/in other words not-a-personal-marketing-guru. so mac went back to big boss and said, if procrast the great does not get promoted to do all of my marketing & more money i will once again leave the company. to which big boss replied, well, that sound like a splendid idea. i'm sure we can get that fixed. as a matter of fact, i'll write down some notes for further review.

big boss's notes as follows:
boobies boobies boobies boobies boobies boobies. oh! i hear an airplane outside! stewardess stewardess stewardess with boobies boobies boobies.

then me boss finally told big boss his plans. big boss says to me boss... well, i believe procrast will be great for the job and i know mac and the other agents will want her, but i think it will be a challenge to have her manage other people who have been here longer. to which me boss replies, i can see it would be difficult, but she's up to it. she knows the issues at hand, she's not a total rtard. big boss then added this gem, "well, i think it would be best if we opened the position to all of the staff and hold interviews."

now... this sounds like a fair idea, no? would it not be pertinent to allow those with higher seniority to toss their hat in the ring? of course it would!!! that is... under normal circumstances. the problem with big boss' idea is the disorder and general mayhem which is bound to ensue within the coming months both angers and frightens me. you see, we will hold general elections, there will be hanging chads, there will be recounts, supreme court rulings, et all. and during the tornado of applications/interviews/interviews with corporate/ blah blah blah, i will have to do me boss' job sans me boss' pay. i will likely end up with the job and the salary increase but only after fifteen rounds with every waiting dick in the wings. and the rest, the rest rests in time and tenacity. do i know what that means either? no.

the only thing i do know for certain, is that i talk about work too much for my own good.

salut me boss
salut me old job
salut me splinter of remaining sanity.

bonjour annoyance.

Typically, titanic treatment of tagmemics tampers tonicity.

An astronomic amount of alliteration abjures for an avalanche of Advil.

So there are a few agents in my office who feel the need to "write with flare" when marketing their real estate. I just wrote up the following description for some craptastic, overly priced, cookie-cutter, high rise, piece of garbage. And it goes a lil' something like this:

This beautiful two bedroom, two bath, unit in the bountiful Palmolive, boasts all your buyer desires. (notice the rhyme? yeah.) Staggering upgrades include: Chef's kitchen with stainless steel appliances, stylish Grohe fixtures, stunning slate tiles, solid granite counters, superior double oven and more! Great open floorplan, generous room sizes, grand 10' ceilings, gleaming hardwood floors, glorious stone spa bath. Master suite with massive walk-in-closet, mamoth built-in's modified for the latest technology.

There is more but I cannot force myself to continue with the debotchery that is "marketing". Excuse me, won't you, while I immediately induce illness and remove all ingurgitated and/or imbibed items.

Vom.