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.