Wednesday – Waiting For the Ax
Oct. 13th, 2010 02:16 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ninanevermore.
.
.
Knowing I am about to get fired is at once liberating and annoying. On one hand, I'm happy that I won't have to quit, and looking for work while you already have one is awkward. The whole thing about wearing a nice suit to your office-casual workplace "just because you felt like dressing up" one day and then claiming you might be gone a little longer at lunch since you have a doctor's appointment" is always suspicious. As it is, I can send out resumes guild free, and I won't bother hiding where I’m going should an interview come up (which it is hasn't yet).
I just hate not knowing when my last day will be. I mean, I think it will be this Friday, but then another candidate came in today which makes me believe Mike has not picked my replacement yet. Maybe the gorgeous brunette last week turned him down (for a girl who looked like that, I think he's a fool for not paying her whatever she asked). A woman called and asked for his line this morning, and I heard him giving her directions when I put her through to him. I had to step out and get something out of my car, and I saw Dave outside smoking, so I stepped over to kvetch a bit.
"I don't know if he's stupid or he thinks I am," I said.
"I don't know what he thinks or how he thinks, period," Dave said.
"Maybe we're giving him too much credit assuming that he thinks at all."
"That's a possibility."
A car drove up and a tall blond stepped out and walked toward the door to our building. We smiled at her. I probably smiled a bit too broadly.
"Wow, did you see the rack on her?" I asked Dave.
"Did I?!"
"She's not as pretty as the brunette last week, though. Still, maybe those things will make up for the face."
"They should!" he said, "I didn't notice her face."
"Kinda plain. What the hell is she doing here? He must have interviewed 20 women last week. I can't believe he didn't like any of them."
We were walking toward the door. "You go first, so you can great her and show her back," Dave said.
The lobby was empty, though. The blonde with the rack was in Mike's office.
"I don't think she was really dressed for an interview," I said. "Though that shirt did show off her assets pretty well," I said, holding my hands cupped and out above my own breasts to show what I was talking about. It was not low cut, but it clung to her nicely.
"I thought so, too."
"So, when do you think Mikey is going to let me know I'm just not his Life Cereal and that I don't have to come in anymore?" I asked. "Maybe I should ask him, so I can make plans about next week. I mean, do I get to sleep in on Monday or not?"
Dave laughed, but he didn't say anything as he walked into his office and I headed back toward mine.
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * # * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *
.
.
Knowing I am about to get fired is at once liberating and annoying. On one hand, I'm happy that I won't have to quit, and looking for work while you already have one is awkward. The whole thing about wearing a nice suit to your office-casual workplace "just because you felt like dressing up" one day and then claiming you might be gone a little longer at lunch since you have a doctor's appointment" is always suspicious. As it is, I can send out resumes guild free, and I won't bother hiding where I’m going should an interview come up (which it is hasn't yet).
I just hate not knowing when my last day will be. I mean, I think it will be this Friday, but then another candidate came in today which makes me believe Mike has not picked my replacement yet. Maybe the gorgeous brunette last week turned him down (for a girl who looked like that, I think he's a fool for not paying her whatever she asked). A woman called and asked for his line this morning, and I heard him giving her directions when I put her through to him. I had to step out and get something out of my car, and I saw Dave outside smoking, so I stepped over to kvetch a bit.
"I don't know if he's stupid or he thinks I am," I said.
"I don't know what he thinks or how he thinks, period," Dave said.
"Maybe we're giving him too much credit assuming that he thinks at all."
"That's a possibility."
A car drove up and a tall blond stepped out and walked toward the door to our building. We smiled at her. I probably smiled a bit too broadly.
"Wow, did you see the rack on her?" I asked Dave.
"Did I?!"
"She's not as pretty as the brunette last week, though. Still, maybe those things will make up for the face."
"They should!" he said, "I didn't notice her face."
"Kinda plain. What the hell is she doing here? He must have interviewed 20 women last week. I can't believe he didn't like any of them."
We were walking toward the door. "You go first, so you can great her and show her back," Dave said.
The lobby was empty, though. The blonde with the rack was in Mike's office.
"I don't think she was really dressed for an interview," I said. "Though that shirt did show off her assets pretty well," I said, holding my hands cupped and out above my own breasts to show what I was talking about. It was not low cut, but it clung to her nicely.
"I thought so, too."
"So, when do you think Mikey is going to let me know I'm just not his Life Cereal and that I don't have to come in anymore?" I asked. "Maybe I should ask him, so I can make plans about next week. I mean, do I get to sleep in on Monday or not?"
Dave laughed, but he didn't say anything as he walked into his office and I headed back toward mine.
