Woeful Weekend, now what?

It’s Monday. If you live/work in DC chances are you won’t be reading this because it is a Federal Holiday and you have the day off from work. So hopefully you are out and about enjoying the great weather today. Reason #1,653 to hate my law firm life – no observance of Federal Holidays.

To make this day just that much more enjoyable, WMATA planned major track work on the Blue/Orange lines that would keep all the stations near my office out of commission over the weekend (no big deal) and then also today (uh…how am I going to get to work?) My normal bus route also doesn’t run on Holidays (seriously Columbus, you are really screwing with my day today) so I had to plan a complicated alternate route into work today. The little 4.5 mile distance between my apartment and my office ended up taking roughly 2 hours. Really, I should have just walked.

So all this free time on my hands this morning gave me too much time to do what I am a gold medalist at -- thinking too much and worrying.

I emailed two close friends recently, not really to discuss anything in particular let alone anything that I have on my plate right now (because sometimes you know better than to burden other people) but I referenced this sort of funk I go through every year – Birthday Hangover. The BH has nothing to do with if there were any real fun celebrations or activities that one would need to actually recover from (although I was so very happy that this year there were.) I think I tend to view all my adult birthdays as my own annual performance review for my life – what progress has been made, what goals have been accomplished, what are the areas for improvement, where might there be cause for concern. And someone else should really start doing these reviews for me because I am way too harsh on myself for my own good. (And as a side note, no, I was not as harsh on Temp Assistant!)

Saturday was kind of a sad day. I can’t say that it was any one thing. Probably more of a culmination of the feeling of too many things going on or too many worries lately. So I just spent the day alone. Like all alone, did not leave my apt, alone. I can be a bit of a hermit sometimes, usually it passes just as quickly as it happens. I was supposed to go out that night, but the plans fell through and I guess it was just as well. I probably wasn’t great company for anyone anyway.

Yesterday I tried for a better day. I forced myself up early and out of the apartment to run errands. Between groceries and other bags there was too much stuff to take up in one trip. First trip done and I thought “Oh it would be smart to take the trash out when I go for the rest of the bags!” So I did, feeling pretty darn proud of my being so effective and efficient. And I guess to balance out all that smart thinking, I realized on the way back from the car to the apartment that I my apt keys were back IN the apartment. That’s right, I had managed to lock myself out.

Yes, I keep my car and apartment keys separate (because I only ever drive on the weekends.) Yesterday I was just grateful I at least had my key card to get into the apt building. I am guessing from the crack on it that it had managed to break OFF of my apt key ring – awesome.

“Ok,” I thought quite calmly, “I will just go to the Property Manager’s apartment and pay the fine and get let back in. Sh*t happens, what can you do.” So I went to their apt (located in my own building thankfully) and knocked. I saw their one car outside which was a good sign, and I could hear the television on through the door. So I knocked again. I knocked LOUDER. I used the actual Door Knocker (maybe they were being a stickler about that?) and NOTHING. No response. I was knocking at all sorts of levels in various patterns and with varying amounts of force for a good 30-40 minutes. I tried knocking on other people’s doors and no one answered. Probably just as well because what was I going to ask them to do for me?

Now I panicked. What was I going to do? I had no phone to call anyone and didn't even have my wallet, it was all locked up safe and sound in the apt. Roommate was not going to be home for another couple days. I had the car key, the key card for the building, the shopping bags and that’s it. So I hauled my shopping bags back OUT to my car, got in and drove to my friend K’s apt. Literally praying Hail Marys out loud in the car to both calm myself down and ask God to please do me a solid and have her be at her apt.

I parked the car and ran up to the door…and could not for the LIFE OF ME remember her apartment number. So I just started dialing the different numbers on her floor – hey, at least I knew the right floor. And sometimes people would pick up, and sometimes they wouldn’t. Sometimes they spoke English, most times they didn’t. A few people got very nasty with me. One told me to leave before they called the police -- in hindsight, maybe I should have let them as my next thoughts involved going to a police station cause I didn’t know what else to do at that point. So after yelling her name a few times on the verrrrrryyyyyyy off chance she could hear me, I gave up and went back to my car. I got in and shut the door and just cried.

Cried because I was frustrated with myself and the situation. Cried because I seriously had nowhere to go and didn’t know what else to do. Sadly we have NO friendly neighbors in our apt. building. Not one. We have 2 groups that are always outside smoking so I thought maybe I could ask one of them if I could use their phone. But who would I call? The only number I know by heart anymore is my Pop-Pop’s. And he lives in New Jersey, so I don’t know what he could do to help me.

I was driving back to my apt, still crying because I felt so very alone. I didn’t have anyone who might try and text/call me and get concerned if I didn’t respond. I had no one expecting me somewhere on a lovely Sunday evening. I had nowhere to go and no one to worry about me.

Rational Deviled Megs was trying to think:
“Well couldn’t I just sleep in my car if I have to?”
“Hopefully the Prop Mgr will be better about answering their door during normal business hours tomorrow.”
“What if I sleep in the hallway outside my apt - will one of my crappy neighbors have a heart and realize something is wrong and offer to call the Prop Mgr for me?”

But she was getting wayyyyyyyyy overshadowed by Anxious & Worrisome Deviled Megs:
“Wait, is the Prop Mgr office going to be closed for Columbus day?!?”
“I can’t believe I know no one’s phone number that could help in a time like this.”
“Where can I go? I have a car but do I seriously have no place to go??”
“I can’t remember when I have ever felt this alone and helpless.”

And that last statement is a doozy. Because I do just about everything on my own and have for a loooooong time. I had a thought a while back that I was getting worried that just because I have gotten so adept at being self sufficient and independent that people just expect me to be okay that way, or worse, think that I really enjoy it. I do enjoy that I have the capability to do it. I don’t enjoy that yesterday I realized I could be in trouble or need help and have no one to worry about me or come looking for me.

Then Rational Deviled Megs took over and said, “This is bullsh*t. Someone is HOME in the Prop Mgr’s apt. So I will go back there and bang on that door until someone answers dammit!”

Which is what I did. Banged and pounded on the door for about 20-25 more minutes until I then started shouting AT the door. I had even found a pen and paper in my car and scribbled a PLEASE HELP note that I was ready to slide under their door until the Prop Mgr’s husband finally answered the door. And gave me such an angry “Why are you interrupting my watching football look” that I started to cry again. As I explained my situation I think he genuinely felt bad for me and gave me the keys to go upstairs and let myself back in to my apt.

I have never run up those stairs so fast in my life. When I got inside the door I felt such a wash of relief I almost needed to sit down. I collected myself and went back downstairs to return the keys. I thanked him profusely and returned back upstairs to my apartment.

And like that, I was alone again. I was still kind of upset about the whole ordeal and called my Mom. No answer. She regularly screens calls and sometimes I don’t make the cut so I didn’t even feel like trying to call her other line. And calling my Dad (if he even answered) would have gotten me a long lecture about how to NOT lock myself out of the apt.

I tried convincing a friend to come have drinks with me, watch some football/baseball. As usual, I got a “No.” Another friend was off on a date, so…back to being alone. At least now I was INSIDE my apartment, so it was definitely an improvement over crying in my car, don’t get me wrong. But you know when you have something bad happen, or even just a crap awful day, and the last thing you want or really even need is to be left all alone. That was me last night.

I don’t really know how to wrap this up and give it all some positive uplifting ending. I don’t feel horrible about the getting locked out (I mean, sh*t happens) and I don’t feel like “woe is me” that I didn't have anyone to turn to at the time. But I do feel….something. I wish I knew how to describe it so maybe I could start to UNfeel it.

Is there anyone else out there who has felt something like this before with some words of wisdom? And don’t tell me how to NOT lock myself out of the apt. in the future, my Dad’s got that one covered.

I feel so very special!

It finally happened….the day I have been waiting for. I got tagged in someone else’s blog! Go ahead and roll your eyes, I really don’t care if that makes me a total nerd but I am bouncing up and down excited about it. I have been trying to come back here almost every day, writing a little something. Sometimes it’s funny, sometimes it’s ranty. But I have felt like a little kid on the sidelines watching the bigger kids play. Or like a total loser outsider who hears all the kids talking about the super-awesome party this weekend that I wasn’t invited to. But now I feel like I got picked for the team – like I got an invite to that party!

This whole little blogging thing started on a whim, but I feel like I may have found my stride a bit. And it has been really remarkable to me at not only how much I actually enjoy just writing about anything that strikes me, but that some people are actually reading it. The people I don’t know and the people I do know, it’s beyond words how much fun I have had with this in the past couple months.

So clearly you can see it doesn’t take a whole lot to make me happy. But, thank you so much Jess @ Where’s My Sunglasses. Instead of my intended post of “For the love of god if you don’t turn that cell phone ringer off or answer your g@dd@mn phone right I am going to throw your phone out the window”, I am going to take a deep breath, try not to get into an office-place confrontation, and participate in this blog-tag instead. Thanks again, Jess!

1. What was the last thing you ate?
Greek Yogurt

2. What is one of your best childhood memories?
Summers down the shore I think. I was lucky that my grandparents had a house there and I got to basically move to the shore each summer from the day after school let out until the day before school started back up in September. The one big drawback though was that there were no little kids that lived down there all summer, so I didn’t have any friends. Ever the inventive and imaginative child, I used to take my Gram’s plastic lawn ornaments out of the ground (she had some plastic ducks and other birds in the front and some fake crabs and lobsters in the back) and pretend I was an animal expert and give interviews on pretend talk shows I held on the back deck. Ah, my earliest memories of basically talking to myself.

3. When you were a kid, what did you want to be when you were older?
I wrote about this a while back, my earliest remembrances are of wanting to be a princess and later on when I became quite the little nerd, I wanted to be a paleontologist.

4. Do you paint your toenails in the winter?
Always. Some moms may harp on clean underwear. When I'm a mom I will likely be harping on my daughter to always have her nails painted.

5. Do you watch any reality television? If so, what show is your favorite?
Yes...too much of it. I am a sucker for all of the Real Housewives series, any time those Real World and Road Rules kids throw down in some sort of challenge/competition show, and I could watch The Soup all day long.

6. What were some of the "trends" when you were a kid?
I think one of the reasons I am ok with these Silly Bands today is that they remind me so much of jelly bracelets from when I was little. I also remember getting my first cabbage patch kid like it was the biggest thing and the best day that would EVER happen in my whole life.

7. What is your favorite time of the year? Why?
Right now basically…very end of summer and the beginning of fall. I liked the whole “Back to School” thing (clearly this posting is outing me as a real super-nerd) and I feel like even though I haven’t been in a classroom in, oh 8 years, I always think of the beginning of the school year as the beginning of my year too.

8. Do you have any hobbies?
Some…I have this little writing thing I tinker around with. I also enjoy cooking but am pretty flat-out serious about my baking.


So as with being tagged, you are supposed to then go and tag other people so I am going to select some of my newer blog followers:

Sailboats & Seersucker
Kerri @ Confessions of a Shoeaholic
SLD @ Sissy Unplugged
JD @ It's always FUNNY in Colum-bubble
Ryan @ Ryan's Pearl

Better off Well

Yesterday I got taken down by some stomach bug. I was in the office and trying to soldier through the day until I started running a fever, then got the chills, and then got, well, sick. Getting sick is never a fun thing, but having it happen at work is always such an ordeal. I let my bosses know that I was going to need to leave early -- I left about 3:30. Things were under control, Asst. was fine and could cover anything that may come up. I mean really in the big picture, I was technically just leaving an hour and a half early.

I laid low last night, tried to recoup, but this morning still felt under the weather. So I let all my bosses know, let Asst and HR in my DC office know, and updated an out of office message to direct people to contact Asst. in my absence. Should be okay, right? I mean people get sick and the world hasn't ended before, right?

Wrong. So. Very. Wrong.

As they are wont to do, some lawyer waited until the last minute for help with something very important and very time sensitive. One of the biggest stresses of the law firm environment is that EVERYthing is very important and time sensitive, so it all feels a bit like working for a million Chicken Littles.

So the email came in at 11 and I missed it because I had gone back to sleep for awhile because I was just not feeling so hot (I mean, people often sleep on their sick days, right?) When I finally saw it just before 1pm I immediately got the request out to the appropriate people to help him but was told I was just too damn late. I should have responded right away.

My out of office message was on with clear instructions on what to do if there was an immediate an urgent need. If they ignored that email and were still waiting for someone to get them what they needed, then pick up the phone and start calling people. There's a million things that could have been done to solve this issue. But they just let time pass and then got really angry with me for not being in the office.

I brought in one of my bosses (Because anyone with half a brain knows that good or bad, bring your boss in early on something like this. It's better for them to hear about it from you first.) and she sent a great email about the situation, that in times where something is time-critical to cc the marketing department in the office you are in so that we call all be on the same page and get done what needs to get done. She noted that unfortunately I was out sick today and had contact instructions on my out of office.

Then the two partners snapped back that they received no out of office. Oh give me a break. It was on, I even then emailed myself from my personal account to double check. I then had to go and CALL IT so that they could confirm it for me so that when the two partners continued to complain that I had not turned my OOO message on, I could get some technical back up.

So the long and short of it is I did everything I was supposed to. I notified the proper people about my need to use a sick day today. I have been working for the last three-plus hours on trying to do as much as I can since I am not physically in the office. And none of it has been good enough. In fact, I can't tell if the pains in my stomach now are illness related, or anxiety about going in to the office tomorrow to get yelled at some more.

Sorry this post wasn't very humorous or insightful -- it was really just me complaining. But I am having one of those days where I just feel so frustrated by, tired of, and basically OVER my job and am struggling to find a way to make peace with it. I guess at least tomorrow is Friday?

I'm a Philadelphia Sports Fan. Go f*ck off.

I mean, that’s the response you would expect me to have, right? That's the picture that's been painted of what a Philadelphia Sports fan should say, isn't it? Maybe it is just the amount of texts, emails, messages and general trash talk I got from people after the Redskins beat the Eagles in Philadelphia this past weekend, but I have had it up to HERE with people giving me a hard time about being a Philadelphia Sports Fan. So if this posting gets a little ranty or veers a bit off course, my apologies. And this post isn't for everyone, so I won't be offended if you decide to stop reading now.

This has just been brewing for a while now, so please don't think this is just some sour grapes over a football game. I am just sick of it. The bad image of Philly Sports Fans. It’s one of those things that just stuck and never went away. Yes, I get it everyone. We booed Santa Claus. I love when people come at me with that remark and I ask them to tell me about it and they just stare at me with a blank expression. Hey everyone, if that's gonna be your basis of argument, let's at least take the time to learn the damn story behind it all, shall we? Let’s set the record straight about what happened back in December 1968.

The Eagles were beyond TERRIBLE and the team owner was the most hated man in Philadelphia. The halftime show was supposed to be a Christmas pageant but because of bad weather, team officials scrapped the pageant and instead sent a guy onto the field in a Santa suit with the introduction of "The Philadelphia Eagles wish you a Merry Christmas." The fans were venting their frustration at the crap season and an owner they hated and started booing. Do I think it was okay? No, not really. Do I think we are all just a bunch of a-holes who hate Santa? No, not at all.

I think they were passionate fans who were beyond frustrated. The Eagles were ending the season with a 2-12 record. And that day they were more that 58,000 fans in attendance. 58,000 people showed up to see their crappy Iggles because Philadelphia fans are passionate about their teams. There are many teams today with winning records that can't get that many butts in the seats. And I do agree with a lot of you out there, sometimes that zeal and passion leads some people to do stupid things.

But I am so, SO tired of getting grief from everyone JUST for being a Philadelphia sports fan. People who are holding on to some Santa story from over 40 years ago that they don’t even know. I have seen some rude, degenerate and disrespectful fans from just about every team out there. If you want personal experience, one year I had two women physically threaten me in the ladies room at FedEx field when I went to an Eagles Redskins game. That very same game, I had a grown-ass man, probably in his late forties, shove me (and I fell to the ground) because I was wearing some of my Eagles gear. I did NOTHING to provoke him. Even if I had (and seriously that is not something I would ever do), would that make it ok for him to purposely push a female?

A few years ago, I scored some great seats right behind home plate for a Nationals game here in DC against the Phillies. I proceeded to be heckled by (again) GROWN MEN for the first 3 innings….started out with them telling me the Phillies sucked, Phillies fans were the worst, etc. Standard Philly-fan bashing. After I am assuming they got a few beers in them and wanted to get more creative, they then started throwing things at me – food, wadded up napkins, peanut shells. I was seriously considering leaving but boyfriend-at-the-time told me to just ignore them. They then kicked it up a few thousand notches by getting really lewd, vulgar and sexual in nature with the things they were yelling at me. The usher did nothing. I also think they always stick 85 year old senior citizen ushers in the "fancy seats" because they figure that is a safe zone. Not so sometimes. Not so.

Listen up, very few people really and truly CHOOSE their sports allegiances. Some of them they have had their whole life, and have been passed down to them just like their last name and their religion. I never had a choice. And I don't think I would have wanted one. Philly sports is home to me. Makes me think of growing up and my family. Makes me think of nights spent sitting on the porch eating a water ice and listening to Harry Kalas. Makes me thing of Autumn Sundays with Buddy Ryan and listening to my dad yell at the TV. It's a part of my growing up, it's a part of me.

My Mom-Mom is 98 years old. And listens to every single Phillies game each season. Every one. Part of my joy in seeing the Phillies win the World Series in 2008 was knowing she got to experience it too. It was stepping outside of the bar I was watching it at that night and calling my Dad and little brother. This wasn't a choice for me, it's where I came from, it's what I know. It's my family and my home. And I am very very lucky to have it.

So go ahead and tell me about booing Santa. Tell me about the idiots who run on the field. Tell me about the belligerent and obnoxious teenager and what he did. Tell me about the jail at the Vet. Tell me all your stories about what horrible sports fans come from the city of Philadelphia.

And I will smile and tell you....I'm a Philadelphia Sports Fan. Now go f*ck off.

Tales from the Trenches Tuesday

Once again, I almost forgot it was Tuesday then thankfully remembered and dropped everything I was doing. Well, not really…I was quite productive this morning so I think a leisurely afternoon has been earned today.

I was honestly thinking about this when I was brushing my teeth this morning, wondering who I should dig up from my files. Then MDIYL started pestering me today by Gchat. And email. AND BY TEXT. Dude is clearly covering all his bases. So I am guessing it’s a sign from God that I should write about MDIYL today. Or that I should simply give up and head straight to a convent. Or maybe both.

I started dating MDIYL at a weird-ish time in my life. I had recently switched jobs and had gotten to a point where I realized I pretty much hated the new job. I also wasn’t crazy about my living situation at the time and had some of those other sorts of stresses going on. So dating MDIYL was a fun distraction. The equivalent of dangling some shiny, jangly keys in front of a crying baby to distract and temporarily soothe them.

We didn’t have a ton in common but I guess since he was just shiny, jangly keys, that didn’t really matter. We talked a lot about baseball (that’s usually on my list of stupid things I always fall for) and had somewhat-similar senses of humor. And we had good chemistry. So that was all well and good enough for a couple months worth of distraction, right?

Well yes….but then the cracks and caveats started to show. First in small ways...he used to use wayyyyyy too many emoticons in emails. For anyone older than 12 anyway. And he used to leave drunk voicemails, sometimes on my work phone so I didn't even get them right away.

Then the cracks and caveats started showing in a major way. Once we made plans to meet up after a baseball game he was going to with one of his friends. He had called to say he was tired and would just stop to pick me up on his way home. After I had gotten in the car and he pulled away from the curb I realized that “tired” was actually “drunk.” We managed to make it to his house before he then hit a car in the parking lot. Not a wreck (thank God!) but enough scratching and denting that I felt he should leave a note.

I was then told that he did not need to leave a note because his car was better than the other car, something about Mercedes vs. BMWs….not a plausible argument to me but what do I know, I was dating someone who left me drunk voicemails at work. This then escalated into a fight where I was told I was being too dramatic (as a side note, if there are any guys reading this never, I repeat NEVER, tell a female they are being too dramatic, even if they are.) Things were somehow resolved and a note was left, although I don’t think I asked to see what was actually scribbled on the note, so who even knows if it was about the car damage. Or if the note was even legible at that point. Perhaps it was just the proper emoticon that conveys the message of "I drunk hit your car and I don't care."

A few weeks later we went to see a comedian at the Improv and afterwards I stayed over at his house. (And as another side note, I had about a 5 year stretch where I lived with guy roommates. So to avoid the fratastic heckling that went along with having a guy sleep over at my house, I rarely let anyone I dated stay over at my place.) The next morning, we decided to go out for breakfast and when the bill came, he made me pay for half because we hadn’t had sex that morning. I guess I hadn’t earned my breakfast? I don’t really know... I wish I was making that up but sadly I am not.

So obviously, I let things start to fade after that. It was one of those situations where I didn’t think there needed to be some formal “We need to talk….” conversation. A gradual fade would do juuuuuuust fine. And it was working. We were spending less time together. Calls and texts got farther apart. The fade out was working just as it should.

Until one night. He texted me and it was a little pushy. I couldn’t tell if he was being mean or joking or really what he was trying to say. I do remember I was bored so I took the bait and texted back. After a few back-and-forths, he sent me a text that made it clear to all concerned that we would not be seeing each other any more. It also made me die laughing (not the effect I think he was going for) and show my phone to anyone and everyone around me.

On the screen of my phone was a simple text – My Dick Is Your Loss. Does it get much classier than that? If someone has something better, trust me I would LOVE to hear it.

Monogram Monday

Some folks that know me IRL may already be aware, but I monogram or initial just about everything. Like, as many things as I can possibly slap a monogram on, I do. I have one on my Blackberry (well that just makes good sense so I know which one is mine!) I have a monogrammed shower curtain. I have my initials framed above my bed. I even have a monogram on my car. Hell, I even went to college at a school that has my same initials (subconsciously chose that I swear!) I wouldn't ever consider myself a total "prep" of a person but gosh darn it if I am not a sucker for a monogram.

So I wanted to share this great monogram giveaway over at Maryland Pink & Green. If I can't win hopefully at least one of you will!

Maryland Pink and Green: Monogramming 101: "It's been a while since a giveaway, so I decided to start Monday with a fun contest to brighten the start of your week! Since 2005, The Sil..."

So long, Temp Assistant. I will not miss you.

I can hardly believe that a little over three months have gone by since my Temp Assistant arrived to help hold down the fort while my Assistant was out on maternity leave. I may have aged about three years in that time frame. I have gotten countless gray hairs. I have bitten my tongue so many times I think it may be permanently swollen.

But here we are. Her very last day in the office. Is it wrong that I have as much excitement and enthusiasm as kids do on the last day of school? Like when the day is over I want to run out into the street and throw a bunch of files and pens in the air and twirl around?? Ok calm down, I am not going to actually do that (although I really want to) but I don’t know what to say to her on her last day here. “So glad you’re leaving!” doesn’t seem entirely appropriate to say to her face. And I’m sure they don’t make a cute card that says “Sorry to see you go but I won’t miss your complete incompetence and total lack of common sense.”

If nothing else, she has provided loads of people I know with a lot of laughs via my facebook status updates. People actually have written to me on facebook asking for me to update MORE about her. I guess they didn’t realize I was a little short on free time because I was using what other spare minutes I had cleaning up her mistakes. So I thought I would take the occasion of her last day to list some of the favorite highlights from this summer and perhaps some lessons we can all learn from them.

• One day, Temp Asst. addressed me as Heather. TWICE. My name isn’t even close to being Heather, I don’t look like any famous Heather….I don’t really know why she did it once, let alone twice. Perhaps she was trying to get rid of me, but that doesn’t really work in an office place setting.
• Temp Asst. also liked to email me at 8:59am saying “she might be a little late.” Well, work starts at 9am. So unless you are writing that email from the lobby of our building, you ARE going to be late, there is no might. Or perhaps you have mastered time travel. And if so, I would imagine if you applied yourself you could land a MUCH better job than temping with that kind of skill.
• Unfortunately, it’s often expected that you work late. Especially in law firms. I rarely asked you to (mostly because I spend more time fixing your mistakes than it is worth having you “help out”) but when I did, you were really vague about why you couldn’t. You need to have a list of prepared excuses on hand to let me know why you can’t stay a minute past 5pm. Trust me, I would have rather been at happy hour myself than working on a proposal late on a Friday.
• When you do come up with excuses, the key is to keep some variety and change them up a bit. You had far too many doctor’s appointments that you had either “forgotten” or came up very last minute for a seemingly healthy 23 year old.
• You have such poor attention to detail it frightens me. Some days I am amazed you made it into the office with your shoes on the right feet. But when typing and proofing documents, you need to really buckle down and not rely on spell-check. Because the word ship can be something TOTALLY different if you change that last letter. And I have too much work of my own to do and can't deal with proofing your ship.



• I don’t know what goes on in college these days, but I imagine at some point you still need to do some actual reading. I apologize that work emails aren’t all LOLs and OMGs, but if you actually take a few moments to read things thoroughly (and comprehend what you have read), you would avoid sounding like a total fool. You noted the other day that you would walk the materials to the lawyer's office and I surely didn’t jump in to correct you. I actually wanted to see how you were going to walk them to his office. In Philadelphia.
• Work ends at 5pm. I know there may not be anything for you to do between 4:50 and 5 but you are getting paid for those ten minutes so go back to your desk and get on facebook or read Perez Hilton for the last ten minutes like the rest of us.
• If you are going to sneak out early, have the decency to do some actual sneaking. Strolling right by my open office door to head to the elevators is just ballsy. And not in a good way.


I know I may not have always been the best boss to you, but I really have tried. I thought back to my first jobs out of school where I just sat making copies and stuffing folders and what that feels like. I tried to give you some understanding of where your work was fitting into the bigger picture and the integral role you were playing. I tried to joke around with you and get to know you as a person and who you are “outside the office.” I complimented you on your shoes (and how I thought they were cute, not marveling at how you managed to get them on the right feet all by yourself.) I played good cop. I played bad cop. One day I shut my door and cried because I was just so exhausted by you and your inability to do anything. And through it all, you just looked at me with a big, blank stare.

So good luck out there, Temp Asst. You are gonna need it.