As of tomorrow, I will have been at my job for 1 year. Among other things, it has involved a lot of dudes wearing fleece vests and me dancing/twirling in elevator banks. Also, my boss managed to make me getting hit by a car last spring into a running joke. Go figure.
"What kind of signature is that? Is it a tired bat? Is it like a bat that fell out of a tree and got hit by a car?"
This is the big bag of sauce that my team is amassing. Because we’re classy. And we like food. A lot.
"What do they do at a property managers’ conference - discuss the best type of mouse trap?"
another day at the office
Me: Opens boss’s door and tries to stick head through opening. Hit glasses on doorway instead.
Boss: You need whiskers. (like a cat. ‘cause cats use whiskers to figure out how wide a space is.)
This Job
Lol at the awesome guy in the cafeteria on 5 informing me that an English muffin is not an ideal platform for a scrambled egg. Happy Friday!
Life on the 15th floor means wearing a cashmere cardigan in the middle of August.
noted
This job has made me streamline my life, for the better: unfollowing tumblrs, hanging up my clothes at the end of the night, switching facial cleansers, going to bed at a decent hour, etc. Basically: prioritizing. Now if they could just hire me, I’d really be in business.
Being on the 35th floor allows for the observation of various roofdecks.
Shred or die.
