2003-12-18

After a week of coming to work in natty skirts and properly girly shoes, I finally said �fuck it� yesterday morning and threw on a pair of corduroys and a mangy sweater � why look all posh and spruce when there�s no one around to impress? If an employee puts on a button-down dress shirt in the forest, does it make a sound? (Well, in my case, the answer is yes, but it�s not an utterance that can be repeated in polite company.)

So there I was, lazing about my office like a narcoleptic housecat, dressed in my very best �who cares, it�s laundry day� attire, stuffing my face to stave off the boredom � and of course, this is when the new Minister decides to show up and pay an impromptu visit to his new minions. He popped into my cubicle just as I�d jammed a handful of carrots in my mouth. I stood up, shook his hand, and did my best impression of Cookie Monster on a health kick: I got out �Nife �oo mee-oo,� and did the appropriate �ha ha I�ve got a piggy face-full of food� hand gesture, and he left, heartily impressed no doubt by my aura of competence and professionalism.