trying hard not to get dooced

August 14, 2008

Posting has been so minimal because of work. Yeah, from cradle to the cube… yada, yada, yada.

This will be mostly about work so if it’s been lousy at your own cube, you can skip this.

We had new additions to the Marketing Team and what can I say except that they are very pretty — they possess the faces that make you hate your own. I do exaggerate. Okay, maybe just a little discontented with that person that stares back at you in the mirror. Not really. I admire beautiful people, I do. But boy, isn’t it more often true than not that the face value is inversely proportional to quality of the grey matter.

And really, I do not care if you’re a little slow – we do have our days but just do not go on acting like you are so good and know everything when you cannot even spell. Spelling in this day and age – what with MS Office and auto-spell check available in almost all applications that lets you type words – can’t imagine how you could go wrong unless you have one eye closed. And I do not really care if you are cute and you use it as a weapon against idiotic males, just do NOT step into my territory because I’d be hating myself for not clawing your eyes out.

Okay enough bitching about some nondescript females.

My bosses decided that before they sell the company public, we have to be audited by some guys that call themselves Deloitte & Touche. I didn’t get to meet either Deloitte or Touche but instead some Cheng, who was so fashionably dressed I thought he mistook our office for the modelling agency. Cheng grilled us about security and fraud management. I was half in love with him even before the interview was over. He’s that good.

A few weeks after Chinaman left and the sun’s rays have wiped out all traces of hunger-induced love, my boss asked me to get my ass to the office even after I have called in sick with a raging headache. I learned to my dismay that we have 21 days to shape up. And the documents that we need to produce if printed on A4 and pasted side by side would reach the moon. Policies and procedures, fraud, security, attack, SDLC, fraud, fraud, fraud and ISO. I close my eyes at night and I still see the words floating around me – taunting me: “Get up. Arrange us into a coherent paragraph.”

A thought. A line. A dash.

And now, I have to rush home – to my own side of the bed, where a very nice linen blanket and my stone-fruit love await me. Max smells and looks like some succulent fruit.

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