Wednesday, June 14, 2006

Where's A Muzzle When Ya Need One?

Yesterday, Michelle and I were the only ones in the office (with the exception of Becky, who stopped by to run payroll, and left again to do yoga or go shopping or whatever it is wives of executives do with most of their day). Our conversation, as it were, was pretty much "good morning," "I'll be back in a minute" (code for "I'm going for a nice pee"), and "good night."

Today? I can't get the damn woman to shut up. I think she is a) talking to me only because she feels she can safely do so when Chris is around, or b) talking to me to see if I will be snippy, which she can then immediately report to Chris.

Either way, I think she's only talking to me today because Chris is around. How childish is that?

With the exception of one thing, everything she approached me about today was stuff we could've covered yesterday. And one thing, especially, should've been covered yesterday when the office was quiet (she needs me to train her to use Exact Target; approaching me today about it is silly, since everyone just came back from a few day absence and needs a lot from us today).

I don't care how bad this sounds, but it's honest: everytime she approaches my desk, I just want to slap her across the face. Seriously. It is taking every bit of restraint I have to stay put in my desk, and not scramble over it in a fit of anger and slug her a few times.

So, if you all see my mug shot on tonight's news broadcast, you know I failed and slapped the shit out of her. I hope one of you has some bail money, just in case.

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