Well, for a time, I didn't have any vinyl job-jackets on my desk. Yesterday my time sheet was a single page. I was begining to feel neglected. This wasn't a bad thing.
I was beginning to get caught up on all those, "when you have a spare moment" tasks. I was starting to put my head around getting my long neglected job notes (how to do Steve's job if he's ever hit by a bus) going.
They've corrected this for now. Feel the love. Zero to buried in three minutes. Sometimes not only does love hurt, but stinks.
5 comments:
Well, for a time, I didn't have any vinyl job-jackets on my desk.
Steve, I read this three times as "vinyl knob-jackets". I couldn't get past that. Got a couple kooky mental images before I read it correctly.
Don't let that love hurt too bad: those knob-jackets can be killers, and vinyl doesn't breathe.
knob-jackets. Ha! I like it. I say, free knob-jackets for the third-world! Oh, wait. Maybe I should say that so loud.
As an update. The love just keeps piling on.
Is it really love, Steve? It don't sound like love to me.
To bastardize an old song, "If that's love, then grits ain't groceries, chicks ain't poultry, and Mona Lisa was a man."
*Sigh.* I have lots of "love" waiting for me, too...
Okay, it's a love that involves angry sex. I don't recommend it.
At the end of the day I had to leave with two jobs due today left undone (thems the breaks) and one plate job for tomorrow. Considering the load that got dumped on me late morning, that wasn't bad. Of course, you're not judged by what you get done right, but what is left undone or is wrong. All three of those jobs are at least an hour's worth of work.
So, tomorrow unto the breech once more, dear friends.
Okay, it's a love that involves angry sex. I don't recommend it.
HA!
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