Wanted:Vampires And Other Haters Of Sunlight

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Our accounting department is filled with some of the most miserable wenches I have ever encoutered. Truly. They make the crones at my old job look practically sweet. To work in accounting, you have to be one hundred and ten, hate sunlight and love sucking the life out of people. You also have to be willing to gnaw the tires of any innocent soul who might be silly enough to park in your parking lot.

Today, I called over and asked an innocent question. Apparently, I asked the WRONG person that question. The person I asked the wrong question to, passed it onto the CORRECT person WITH a verbal toungue lashing.

The CORRECT person, in turn, called me and left me a very long message, detailing WHAT exactly the answer to my question was and how I do NOT need to ask it again because I am NOT the only salesperson here.

When someone else went into their office to retrieve paperwork, they were given an earful about me. "What is she? A salesperson? Or the offical compliant department?". They were also told "I am on their list. NOT the Christmas one, either."

Nice. Now that everyone in MY dealership loves me, of course I have to find some new enemies. Interesting, the only people who will OPENLY hate me are women.

Men at least ogle my boobs and silently hate me.

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This odd narrative is my life. I ended up in Pittsburgh, of all places--from the beach. I have no hobbies, other than cooking excessively and eating microwave popcorn. I enjoy shopping, the Food network, hiding the remote so the Food network cannot be turned off, find ethnic food stores and restaurants and reading voraciously. My life is decidedly pedestrian.

I worked in the car business where I was required to be ruthless and soul-less wench, which is when I started this project. Since then, I've kept it up because secretly, I've always wanted to join the military. Every male in my mother's family has joined and I quietly entertain thoughts of joining. I haven't yet and don't know if I ever will, but sending the troops cookies keeps me sane. it makes me think I still have a shred of human kindness left in my withering soul. it's a small way for me to salute the men and women who are brave enough to fight for freedom. And makes me feel like I'm contributing toward troop morale--even if I'm not. So if you want to help, send me addresses of troops you know stationed overseas. you may also contribute toward the cost of chocolate chips, but don't feel obligated, that link is here only by request.

the past


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