Checking In

I'm getting far too used to this no boss business. In fact, if someone would just pay me NOT to work for a live person I'd be all set because I can seriously handle chair swinging, playing games, chatting online and sitting with my feet on the desk all day, every day. No, I can! It's dirty work but someone has to do it, so you all don't have to. I hope you remember that at Christmas time and compensate me accordingly.

One thing I am not enjoying is the daily slew of needy Uberlord emails asking me to arrange future trips for which, as usual, he sends no real details, his asking me to schedule hair appointments, have cars pick up his wife and have a minion clad with a silk sponge to wipe his arse upon his return. I mean I am NOT HERE TO WORK, Uberlord, are you delusional? This is supposed to be two weeks of you-free time where I get to relax and create mayhem. You are eating into my me-time. Do I call you in Europe every day asking you to send me croissants? No!

I'm having weird memory issues today. I found some stuff I did yesterday (?) and have no recollection of completing, but it is complete therefore, I must've been half asleep and under the impression I was supposed to work. I was quite clearly insane at the time (working when the UL is away? Please.) I was almost as confused as the time at my old job when I switched around several of the keys on Mr. Panty Waist's keyboard after suffering a stupendously unreasonable day with the giant tool. The old assmuncher was in a state of flux for weeks, trying to email people using & instead of @.

Damn, it was awesome.