Special Sauce

A mish-mash of twisted thoughts from a fevered ego. Updated when the spirit moves me, contents vary and may have settled during shipping. Do not open towards eyes. Caution: Ingestion of Special Sauce may cause hair loss, halitosis, and a burning sensation while urinating.


Would you like a side dish of Crazy with that?

Ok, remember that whole "good news" thing I was blathering on and on and on about in the last post?  Just forget it.  Pretend I never said it, because obviously, that's exactly what the big bopper decided to do when she went absolutely fucking batshit crazy on G. Monkey and me. 

Not that I'm pissed or anything, no, the large quantities of Bass and Brooklyn Lager took care of the anger (and the vomiting took care of that bullimia I was hoping for).  I'm just irritated, annoyed, and slightly amazed- I've never before worked with someone who was so obviously in need of medication and counseling.  Sure, I've had bosses who were fucked in the head, but I'm talking about a woman who agreed with everything that was explained to her, and then went home, and in a paranoiac fit of lunacy, decided to recant everything she said.  Oh, we can still get those raises, but not till October, and not until we make the business enough money to afford them.  And G. Monkey can be the Executive Director, but isn't allowed to sign checks, or make any decisions.  I can be the "executive assistant" not the "assistant director" and my coming to the organization wasn't to help bail them out, it was all a ruse, a clever plot to weasel more money out of the big bopper.  Yep.  The woman's rats. 

Of course, I feel worst for G. Monkey, she put up with the big bopper for FOUR YEARS by herself.  Four years.  Just roll that off your tongue... fourrrrrrrrr yearrrrrrrrrrrrs, in close quarters, with a crazywoman.  I don't know how the hell she did it.  (Perhaps there are bodies in her basement that I don't know about.)  Luckily, she has skills (mad skillz!) and can pick up a job fairly quickly, in Philadelphia, or take on enough freelance copy jobs to keep herself afloat, and we're working on our business plan tomorrow, so we can start something ourselves.  In the meantime, I will polish up my resume, and get cracking.  So, if you need someone cheerful, efficient, organized, and intelligent to help keep your office running smoothly, need a slightly cracked artistic type who would love to help you plan/cater your next event, or a shlub who can type really fast, I am indeed your woman.  No reasonable offer will be refused.  Medical insurance is a must, living wage required. 


On the bright side, I'm working on new aprons, and am apparently receiving a sewing cabinet from my parents for my Birthday.  I'm designing the one I want- it's compact, looks like actual furniture, but will fold out to give me ample room for my mo-sheen, and cutting space.  And, if anyone knows where to get flour-sack towels, please for the love of all that's holy, let me know, I'm trying some new embroidery projects, and cannot find flour sack towels for love or money.  (in the midst of Amish country no less- nobody has the damn things) 

Cross your fingers!


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