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

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Push the button, Frank.

And update the LiveJournal, you freakin rat-headed addict.

My manager treated us to lunch because we've hired a new editor onto our team, from outside the company--an external rather than the more typical internal hire. She is long, but thin. She is also blonde and unsmiling and fashionable, with the delicate bone structure of a baby bird. As the four of us talked over lunch, she acknowledged none of my witty comments, at least not with any betraying twitch of her face. Well, whatever. "I'm sure she's very nice." I will pet my snake tattoo to soothe its tetchy rattle. And I will take Friday off, yes, yes I will.

This is really just a disguised GIP.

Edited to add: The chocolates on the break table are staring at me, right through the wall of my cubicle, like several dozen unblinking eyes. Like the dark, warm, chocolatey eyes of Xander! Hmm. If I keep thinking of them as eyeballs, will it be easier to resist? We'll see.

Speaking of chocolate, I'd always wondered what happened to these, and so I googled just now as the thought struck me for the hundredth time. They were one of my favorites.
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