Spent the last day and a half in meetings. Recovering from these is like the inverse of recovering from the breakup of a relationship. After a breakup, they say it takes half the amount of time that you dated someone to get over them. After meetings, it typically takes me twice as long to recover.
It’s not that I don’t have six piles of paperwork and 179 e-mails to attend to; I just don’t wanna. Plain and simple.
Speaking of plain and simple, we changed some procedures this month, which one staffer took as her chance to not meet deadlines. She is whining to everyone who will listen that she “knows deadlines.” And people are trying to defend her, saying that she simply didn’t have enough time to become accustomed to the new procedures. Fucking moron — the only real change was that she has to send the same information to a DIFFERENT person, but the deadlines are less flexible with my staff than they have been with the former point person. Meaning, no more asking me, “What’s your REAL deadline?” because my real deadline was the one you were given, and if you want to miss it, there’s a 150 percent rush charge. Period. And all of this was explained to her and a dozen others, and she’s the only fucktard who couldn’t get the hint.
Speaking of getting the hint, our former president, Princess Fatass, tried bullying me yesterday. I asked for his guidance in developing a policy, and he overrode me and told me how disappointed he is in me that I didn’t remember a conversation he claims we had more than a year ago. OK, No. 1, I would have remembered something that had to do with my magazine, and No. 2, I was in the HOSPITAL at this time last year, so no, this conversation probably never took place. How DARE that ham-and-cheese-on-legs tell ME that he’s angry at ME for supposedly FORGETTING something he probably told to his cheeseburger? Of course, his request had a flaw in it, so I called bullshit on him and said I’d have never agreed to it based on that alone.
Fuck him. I’m setting the policy according to my budget and to my wishes, not according to some Krispy Kreme with hands who bullies everybody who crosses his path instead of cooperating with them. Fuck off and die, you overinflated corny turd who’s a french fry away from needing three airplane seats at a time.
On iTunes: BT, “Simply Being Loved”