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.

8.30.2005

And by the way-

I had this really odd dream last night.


Nah, just fuckin' with you. AJ's riffin' on dreams today at his place, and I wanted to play too. Except not. Oh, you know what I meant.

So work is fine. The job is definitely a permanent one, in theory. they've tried 3 candidates, and the first 2 didn't make it past HR- didn't have the mad skillz needed to do the post, and one was a BSW, who "want[ed] to be a secretary because it was 'mindless'". Also? Working on her MSW. Wouldn't you want to... I don't know... work in your field? Enh. That remark sorta pissed off the interviewers, so no go.

So, in theory, as long as I continue to demonstrate mad skillz, a perky demeanor, and promise to fellate the guy I'd be primary secretary to (ok, that last part may be optional, but he is rather attractive, and I wouldn't object... His fiancee might, though) I should get the position at the end of my term. Cross your fingers, y'all, because if I do take it? They've got health insurance (and it's GOOD insurance) after 30 days. Also? Their benes rock it hardcore. So... Yeah.

Invites from the event Former Bosslady is "throwing" came in the mail yesterday. Late. (They should have been in the mail no later than August 16, if they went by the timeline I gave them before I left.) And? POORLY proofread. Missing capitalization, missing punctuation, and extraneous appostrophes are rampant through the thing. Thank Elvis my name is not on this thing anywhere. I wouldn't want to be associated with such a shitty product. (Not that I'm the end-all/be-all grammar goddess, but I know how to freakin' spell.) AND? They used the wrong mission statement. I'd LOVE to know how they got that, because it was changed long before I left.

And I returned my keys to the office today. Gave them to Stoltz-a-ma-fus. Apparently Bosslady lied to some other poor soul, and has gotten them to do all her crap for her. Funny part? He was totally at the same party I was at Friday night, and has NO idea who I am. Heh. Stoltz-a-ma-fus keeps telling bosslady that he has no idea where I am. Heh. Heh. Heh. Yes, it's considered being a weasel, but honestly, if I get this job at the hospital, I'm going to stay there long enough to accumulate enough other skillz to remove her from my resume anyway. (Please, I was only there for 6 months anyway.)

P.S. Check out the swell new link to AJ's Piece o' the Web!

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