I walked into the office at Panic Hire University this morning to pick up my syllabi and course contracts.
"Hi Dominique," said I. "Do you have my paperwork?"
"No," said she. She then took her crystal encrusted Hello Kitty phone out and started tapping at it. IM, perhaps?
"So, Dominique, the paperwork. Where is it?" I tried again.
She looked up, startled to see that I was still in the room. One of her acrylic nails was caught in the keys of phone in mid-IM flurry. Most distressing.
"The Print Shop lost everything. They can't find any of your stuff."
"They lost it?" said I.
"Yeah, they can't find it. So, you know, it's gone." Her phone wiggled a little. Very shiny.
"Oh, dear," said I. "What shall we do?"
She, still tapping furiously, still sighing dramatically, still outraged that I was in her office, replied, "I don't know. Why don't you have your OWN copier?" Then her little head bobbed back down to the sparkly as if the matter were closed.
Why oh why did I agree to work for these sloppy, unethical people again?
Oh yes. For the money. Yes. So I could go to Tanzania. Exactly.
Hey! Did y'all notice that I went to gym last night? Hm?
Ok, back to work.
Have a good weekend. And thank you for reading.