Anna S. (eliade) wrote,
Anna S.
eliade

the pigs make me happy, anyway.

The Worst Project Manager in the World is standing alone in the hallway holding a binder, forlorn and bemused, as if waiting for God to speak to him. I pass him on the way to the bathroom.

TWPMitW, forlornly: No one came to my meeting but the room.
Anna: .........

Yes, TWPMitW, this is your life.

It's Friday at my company and that means the shit has hit the fan. Something disastrous always seems to happen on Friday. I'm what's known as the policy on-call this week, so I am sitting here twiddling my thumbs waiting to publish some content I wrote on the go-ahead of Legal, who are reviewing it with the CEO. All of which is nicely vague, so I didn't reveal anything, did I? Good. It's a big important company, by the way. I must be a big! important! person! Not sure why they pay me in cowrie shells and root-beer, but it must mean I'm highly valued. Two years ago, as an annual bonus, I got a plastic slinky. Last year, a t-shirt. This year, the sky's the limit!

Meanwhile, I'm stacking pigs.
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