Round 2

Sooo Doctah Chillay started at The Cubicle Asylum on Friday. He spoke to me once. When I joked that he'd come back from lunch and that it was a good sign, he rattled on about how he'd been in this business 35 years and how "people" had been quoting the wrong things and there were going to be a lot of changes. He went on to say that "people" were going to start being more efficient.

The man doesn't know me. I am his one employee and he never asked me the first thing about our sales department, our process or anything. I am the only "people" that does quotes.

So, I sat back down at my desk, cut my remaining Clonazepam pills in half, called for a refill and washed my hands of him.

Also on Friday, Twatwaffle came in half an hour late in her heels and barfly get up, stomped down to Kat's office and loudly demanded that she could at least make her a cup of coffee. It is not Kat's job to make coffee. It is understood that everyone makes their own damned coffee. Twatwaffle continued to show her ass up and down the hall all day.

I found out from the folks at the little corner store that DC has already stopped there two days in a row to buy two bottles of wine and a 40. He's rented a cabin up by where Aunt Moses used to live, right down the road from Bubbles. So before he'd even started at The Asylum, he was already sitting up in the woods, alone with his two Pomeranians, getting boozed up.

Friday, when Tiny sat down to instruct DC how to use our inventory management system to look up part numbers, etc., DC told him he was wasting his time.

This guy is a total dick.

I'd like to know what psyche ward our corporate office trolls looking for sales managers.

He has also been all over town, telling all the little businesses that he is the new "National Sales and Marketing Manager" at the plant. They've all said he was buying booze and strutting around like he thought he was hot shit, in his white socks and sandals. I can not wait for him to tell me to fetch him some coffee. He is in for a rude awakening.

Anywho... I gotta make a run to the dolla store. I'm out of deodorant, toothpaste and shampoo. Also, Grimm sliced his foot open on a piece of glass yesterday, so we spent close to 10 hours at the pet ER. He's going to be fine, at first we thought it was just a bad cut, but they ended up having to repair a tendon. Between that, the power being cut off for a couple of days last week, leading to a minor meltdown and Doctah Chillay's grand display of assholedness, I'm emotionally and physically pewped.

A sane person would be going a little batshit at this point.

So we'll talk again soon. Ya'll have a great week.

Later Taters!