PS to the chair story: before he went on his grand tour, the big boss asked me to locate a receipt for the "second generation" chairs. Since that was before my time, and I am still to finish cleaning all the old files left to me by my predecessor, that dubious honour fell on the poor senior partner who sometimes doubles as an office manager. Yours truly, in her turn, had to locate the receipt for the "last generation" ergonomic chairs. Why all the brouhaha? He wants to buy new chairs for the office, and he has to decide which ones are more cost effective.
Last week I came to work with a pacifier in my bag. I think I can safely say that I was the only single woman in New York (not working in a pre-school) to manage such a feat.
My blogging is beginning to interfere with my work duties; yesterday, when I wanted to open a new file in Word, it asked if I wanted a blank document or a blog entry.
I definitely need more sleep; autopilot continues to malfunction. Last week I wanted to wipe my face with a nail polish remover instead of a clarifying lotion.
Observed on East 34th Street: two young ladies, approximately college seniors, walking one bright sunny afternoon, each holding a headdress made from fresh bay leaves. Did I miss the Roman's Triumph March somewhere in the Midtown East?
One of our NYC clients "performed as expected": they have misplaced a whole set of drawings.
Due to a fantastic sale at Border's I have achieved a status of the off-season St. Nick (or Russian Ded Moroz) in the eyes of our Golden Delicious. Now, as soon as I drop by, she has to immediately check my bag for a "prize". She also figured my game quite early, even before the sale. Every time I ask her to guess what prize I have got for her, the answer is always the same: sweet, slightly mischievous smile, bright eyes, and "a book?"