Tuesday. A stupid day of course. It just gets worse everyday. Before I get into it though I just want to dispel one of my sister’s worries. I will be working at a staffing agency but I think it won’t be the same because I’m not the same, the company is not the same, and the people that work there are not the same. So yes, maybe this time it will be different. I don’t care if it’s the exact same situation (it won’t be) I’m pretty desperate to get out of the hell that McMann and Tate is becoming.

Today’s shenanigans started when I saw Terry getting off an elevator and I said ‘Hi’. She said nothing in return. There are two things I don’t like about Terry. Namely her face. But I can rest assured that since she’s working full time her acting career is on hold so we won’t be seeing her tired and increasingly fat ass trodding the boards or gracing the silver screen. Thespians around the world can breath a sigh of relief knowing that the 25 year old girl with the ass of a 50 year old mother of five won’t be competing for any roles anytime soon. And I think she’s a virgin. Anyone who has ever gotten laid cannot be as uptight as she is.

You can’t call this character assassination since this chick with the extra chromosomes has no character whatsoever. For some odd reason she wobbled over to my desk to throw out a cup of coffee, then turning back waddling to her desk. This woman is named after cloth by the way, actually named after fabric. Stupid hippy parents I guess. Today I was moving things around in the storage room also known as the production room. Most things get tossed in there that aren’t used anymore, and they get moved around quite a bit. The past week they decided to add more people to the staff and needed to set them up somewhere.

So things that were moved around a few times already actually got moved back to where they were a few months ago. It was a job I do by myself with Linda occasionally fluttering about saying how she thinks I should have someone helping me out with this. There is no one willing to help, hence me moving things about all by myself. This is one of the good things about having to work in jeans. No need to worry about getting my suits dirty.

And the dress code was something that Donna sat down and talked to Jenn and me about today. The main subject was about what a bad job Jenn and I are doing. It turns out, an interviewee came into the office for an interview late Friday afternoon and Jenn and I were in the kitchen setting up for the alcoholic happy hour. Neal, the guy who was interviewing was furious that no one was at the front desk to greet this guy. Ok that’s understandable, but it was rectified in a minute. Donna had to point out that there should always be someone at the front desk. If you need to step away, one should ask Linda, Terry or Donna.

We both knew better than to ask any of them. Donna also mentioned that the front desk was a mess and it needed to be tidied up. When you’re standing in front of the desk there is no way on hell that you would be able to see the post its under the ledge. Also we’re the first people you see when you walk into the office but the situation is such that the front desk is tucked away and you don’t see the front desk. And since we’re the face of McMann and Tate, we should dress better. So despite how dirty the job is or how filthy I get, it really doesn’t matter as long as we look nice. I dislike them all intensely and want to get the fuck out of there as soon as I can. It’s the best for all concerned actually.

If you’re so inclined tomorrow, Wednesday afternoon around 4:30PM EST, please send me some good thoughts and wishes for I will certainly need them.

It’s Monday despite all of my best efforts. I didn’t know what day it was yesterday, not all day, but after I read the Sunday papers and danced a quick tango with a few jazz cigarettes. And watching the grounded parachutist took my mind off the day of the week. I can get so easily distracted. Today I woke up in darkness. It’s dark out at 6:15. I made the bed and took a shower as Bill was readying himself for work. All I had to do was pick out a pair of jeans and a warm sweater and I was done.

I have a guarded hope, for the call back on Wednesday. The excuse is in place and ready to be launched and I think I may be looking too far ahead in the future. No offer has been made, no salary has been discussed, nor benefits. I am counting on this job regardless and that could be tricky since I simply don’t know if I will please the president of this staffing firm. It was very much like Staffmark back in the day. I saw an ad, responded and was called in for an interview. Back then, Mary Ann Molloy decided to keep me for the company rather than farming me out.

So I stayed there. This office is somewhat different. It’s a lot smaller, and I wouldn’t be working the front desk with anyone I’d be alone, my only company would be those looking for work. Work was ok today by the way. I worked with Jenn who laughs at all my jokes, or at least gets them. She’s supposed to be there for the month so that’s pretty cool. I worked in the production room by myself taking things off shelves and then moving the shelves. Friday ended pretty badly with Linda and she was staying out of my way today. And forget about Terry. We rarely converse.

This has nothing to do with the call back mind you. Linda has always been a bit dotty. She was the one who misheard me saying ‘I was busy’ with ‘I was pissy’. She’s also the one who told to never again order paper towels with patterns on them. This is like the Queen of Hearts party in ‘Alice in Wonderland’ only there is no red or any other color. Everything is white on white on white.

Tonight I am meeting Bill at McSwells. Rand and RoDa have pieces in an Art Benefit for returning Iraq and Afghanistan veterans who were wounded. Rand sent me the flyer yesterday and Bill was interested so it seems like a good occasion to go out and see some old friends. I have no idea how it’s going to be. I would like to see Martha Keavney if she’s there. It’s been over a year since I’ve last seen her. Or Martha Griffin, though since its McSwells, I sincerely doubt it. She used to work there and I doubt she’d be into going there.