Man, it's been a dry spell on the job front--nary a call or an interview for way longer than I care to think about. Have you seen these unemployment figures lately? It's demoralizing, since I'm feeling beat down and on the way to developing ulcers from the sheer stress and sublime dysfunction of my current environment. It's the Wild West, I tell you, and I spend a good part of each day detailing to the powers that be, such as they are, the structural problems in evidence since my boss left, oh, three years ago. No rush. Whenever you get around to it. I hear these things practically run themselves. And that's not including our resident certifiable person, our rather amorphous, possibly classified, organizational structure (seriously, we had to ask who the bosses were when review time rolled around), and the laughably inappropriate muckety muck/sub-minion relationships.
Hmmmm, now that I think about it, it may be time to do another movie in comic form about it. (Have you seen my previous episodes? They're clever and allusive, if I do say so myself.)
And the cat, in manner of Mr. Burns, continues--nay, adds to--her delicate stalemate of competing maladies, thus ensuring that she will outlive us all.