... at Tamara's last Saturday, with Patricia and Mijke.
(did I spell that right?)
I had a blast! It was great fun hanging out, chatting,
sharing the latest shocking news, laughing and being silly :)
Today I am back at work, and bored as hell, wondering where,
oh where this production is going... but apparently there will
be some re-organizing and scheduling at a meeting tomorrow,
so I have faith... gotta keep believin'...
I also came across a woman today
who I'd like to refer to as RB (Rich Bitch).
Our first encounter was already so warm and friendly:
RB:'I'd like a café latte'
Me:'Eh, sorry, I'm not the coffee girl...
RB:'Oh' (eyes me up and down - iech! I hate that)
RB:'You look like one'
I mean... okay, I was running around in my oldest pair of jeans
and had taken off my shoes for maximum comfort at working space,
but having to take that from
miss 'armani-gucci-but I couldn't afford good taste'
was a mind-blower!
And what is she implying anyway?!
That coffee girls are low pitiful creatures???
(You should've seen her look)
I couldn't think of anything to answer back at that moment
(of course) so I just brushed it away with an elegant snort...
Today I see her overly tanned self again,
waltzing up and down the hallway in her bossy manner.
When I went to get myself some more tea, there she was,
at the coffee corner,
talking about something incredibly dumb and profane I am sure.
So I whisk by,
nevertheless giving her the 'pf- I remember you too bitch' look,
pour myself some nice steamin' tea, and am about to retreat
in the same nonchalant 'I ain't even lookin' at you again' way
when I crash into the slightly open door of the dishwasher, stumble,
and pour tea and myself all over the floor...