Last night I woke up to the sound of fighter jets and sirens. I woke up at 3 a.m., peed and went back to bed. I sat, awake stressing about work until about 5:30 when I finally just exhausted myself. Losing sleep over an even half-to sucks. (Edited because I hate the way I sound today. hehe).
Buck up, little camper!
LOOK! KITTENS!
I am ok. I sound worse than I feel, I’m sure. hehe
Office politics mixed with gossip is one horrible mix. There are just certain things one shouldn’t have to hear about. Like, say, affairs…. or territorial waxings…
I’ve been sent here to start some sh*t to humor myself. I’m ill and cranky, waiting until 11 to hear about my co’s future. Or maybe I won’t get laid off, because I’ll be dead first (getting word that a suspicious truck was stopped in the Bronx).
And I get here, and there’s nothing and no one to trash talk. Kittens, of course, are off limits.
But then I think, maybe it’s all good. After all, if I hear today that my future is going down the drain, there’s still time to apply to teach English in China. Anyone want to join me? I’ve heard wonderful things about these programs.
Wouldn’t that be something? Yuppie-boy sells out to Wall St from biochemistry, and after two years ends up teaching English in Shanghai (that’d be the most desireable destination). Who’d a thunk it?
Trashtalker, the 14th street bridge was down for hours this morning because of a “suspicious package” turns out it was “nothing” though nothing was said about what nothing was.
In case you were concerned, the bridge in the Bronx re-opened.
I am now listening to my company’s conference call. I’m hoping to not snooze before the Q&A segment. No announcement yet. But when the Post is running articles on how some of us might have to grab our ankles, one is expected to be forthcoming.