Separation anxiety from da mother.
And the trademark mess is gone.
It didn't sink in so easily.
I arrived at work and saw my boss's empty desk and read her farewell e-mail (with her trademark typos and grammatical errors. You shoulda consulted Mr. Garfield, Mother.) The lady had to come in on a blasted holiday to clean out her desk, would you believe that?
I guess a blended mix of three-week long PMS, a three-day job fair held in another city, a migraine, and the thought of losing your beloved boss just isn't healthy.
I admit that today has been a wreck (Sorry, Z, I know it's your birthday.) and I haven't really accomplished anything.
And it's already 5:30pm. Dear HR, can I be excused today? I'm suffering from withdrawal syndrome.
I was supposed to post a 'before and after' photo of boss's desk on this entry, but stupid 'ol me accidentally deleted the 'before' photo from the digicam. If my table's a black hole, what do you call yours?
I got three calls and three text messages from her today. How nice. You're missing me already?
If there's anything stupendous that I learned from my boss, it's to go down fighting. You gotta hand it to a woman who was in a meeting four hours before she gave birth to a baby boy.
Damn.
I still can't believe that you beat me to resigning first.
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home