All night I dreamt of work.
I think I should get paid overtime.
And when I get to work - the typically MIA Office Manager leaves me a long-winded voicemail about an unspecified death in the family, and how she was going to be late to the office due to having to explain the passing of "Frances" to her dearly deranged, older than the hills, Mother. It never fails, too, that some Lawyerman will deem this the appropriate time to "have to have a check." The checks are in a drawer, locked. I don't have the key.
What do they expect me to do? Write an "IOU" on a tissue and hope the courthouse won't notice? Pay out of my own thinning pockets? Smack them with the nearest Southeaster Report tome? Yes - I think that will be the proper course of action from now on: Assault and Battery comes free with every Assinine Request (Purple Nurples and Headlocks - $ .99 extra).
So the office manager strolls in a bit later (earlier than expected - but still a good 45 minutes after the start of the day) and I tell her about the check request. She screws up her face, wrinkles from forehead meeting her jowels and says "Holly, " (enter exasperated sigh) I LEFT you a voice message TELLING YOU where the check was and letting YOU know what was going on." (Some parts she sneered - those are in all caps. ) So I say, "Sorry - I only got one voicemail and it was you explaining how you wouldn't be here."
"Well," her upper lip curled with the word, stretching her salmon-colored lips into a Jokerish smile. "I LEFT you a message."
I smiled and hurled a book of law at her face - which stuck to her many layers of make-up like a man-made adhesive and then slid down - revealing her true self.
I need a new job.
And a t-shirt that says "Everything I need to know in life - I learned from Southpark.