A Black Feather, A poison pen...

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fear of fridays, redux

caught up with everyting again for the moment.


Just a couple of details to fill in. documents to send, lists to coordinate.


why do i do it?


because it feels nice to actually be good at something and know it even without needing to be told or reassured.


yes, sometimes it grinds at me, the customers, the directorate, the varying strata of management, micromanaging their way into this project, trying to turn the grey lady into a mere figurehead on this project. in spite of our collective skills and talents in this arena, the Grey Lady and i have thus far been regarded as little more thn glorified clerks. The man in the corner has done at least some modicum of standing up for us when we've needed him to, but one of the uppermost tiers of management in this joint is firmly under the sway of the queen bitch across the hall.


i swear, i am gonna super-glue that woman to her chair if she interrupts whatever progress i am making in an attempt to getme to give her one more fucking update on said progress...fuck, if she'd stay out of our way, we might actually fucking accomplish something... and the fact that it looks like we might anyway will be no thanks to her.....FUCK!


grr...grumble..piss...moan....snarl

3:52 p.m. - 2002-12-20

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