Here I am, doing what I do best--avoiding grading. I've actually gone into work early because the house was so quiet and lonely. Jonathan is off doing forensics research at Tech (every day a report on what he's done with blood splatters and DNA), Christy is at a leadership conference out of town, and Vic is employed. HA. Welcome to our collective nightmare, dear.
She's come to the conclusion that she doesn't want to be anybody's "office bitch." Yes, that R-rated language came out of that precious mouth (let's not delude ourselves about it being infrequent). In sharing with me her disgust at having to take orders, and in this case, produce a web design that may or may not be what she would personally like, she stopped everything to demonstrate how our friend and her former boss, Greg, gets home from work.
She stepped out into the garage, and then re-entered, quite dramatically, and half-trudged/half-stomped to me (pretending to be her) and she (pretending to be Greg) thundered, "Vicky, whatever you do, work at something you love!!!"
It's like that credit card commercial:
hourly wage: $9.00
hours worked: 30
state and federal taxes withheld: obscene
reality: priceless
Welcome to the world of work. Study hard, sweetie, so you can be the boss.
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