So I got there about nine, toting my reading lamp and my tissues, and was in my new work outfit and feeling Friday fine.
My office roomie Mike is nice. He set up a Jamie Cullum radio station on Pandora just for me. We listened to it all day even though he hates it. See? Nice. Could be because of training from wife and kid.
Tony is my boss. Addicted to his BlackBerry. Wears a wallet chain. Shacked up with some woman. Tony gave me enough stuff to keep me busy all day, but not advertising agency busy. The amount of work I did in an eight-hour day would have been a couple hour's worth at the last place. It was niiiiiice.
Also, the boys didn't make me each lunch like a loser all by myself. We went to Double Dave's and I think I hallucinated that it was 1993. Freebird's World Burrito and Double Dave's. Instant time machines.
By 4:30, me and Mike were the only people left in the office. I didn't know what to do. I've never had a job where people actually, you know, went home at some point. I am so used to working assinine hours that I kinda felt like a cheater. By six, I was drinking beer with Stefanie at Idle Rich. It was awesome. Freelancing good.
And on the last of my frequent trips downtown for school crap, I drove by Gypsy Tea and nearly wrecked when I saw my music boyfriend Jamie Cullum is in town tomorrow. Even though it's a Sunday and the same time as Grey's Anatomy, I'm going. I'll tape the GA. I'll probably be the oldest broad in Deep Ellum. Jamie Cullum, mmm.
I came to the liberry today to do all my homework for this week in advance, but it smells like dirty baby in here and I can't take it. I'm going to Good Records to get my golden ticket, and be the uncoolest person in the room, and find someplace less malodorous to work.
Hey, should ReadBecca have ads like Writing Gal? I wonder how much dough she gets.
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