I just got out of a meeting with various members of the Top Brass, and a mixed-nut medley of Piranhas and Divas. Mostly, it was Mr. Prez talking about the company's new set of values and visions and whatnot, elucidating about lovely theoretical goals and objectives. Every so often, I purposely quipped out of turn... I don't often get an audience with the decision-makers in the firm, so I thought it important to show them I have an outside-the-box brain.
Oh, all right. Call it sucking up if you want to. But it was subtle, I promise you. I tried to come off more the naively eager gem amongst the older, jaded cynics rather than the irritating brown-noser who just likes to hear the sound of her own voice. Jaysus. I've just spun myself into a web of paranoia. What if I hit the notes wrong and came out sounding all ass-kissy and horrible? That won't do. Oh Lordy... That won't do at all...
Right. Must stop worrying. What's done is done. The best thing to do now is think about something else. Oh, I know. I'll focus on the I-just-realized-today-that-he's-a-hottie-and-how-could-I-have-missed-this-all-before boy that was in the boardroom as well. For the love of all that is holy, the beast has been awakened, my friends! When did he start lookin' so good? But no... That won't do either. Dipping in the company well is never a good idea, so I should really start thinking about something else.
Lovely. That's two elephants in the same room that I've got to ignore.
Maybe I should just focus on the fact that I'm wearing my new size 10 pants and they look... oh Lord. I'm NOT being paranoid here. They look... oh God... they look... bulgy. Argh. Back on the Nazi diet I go.
So now what do I do? I've just spun myself a cocoon of paranoia, insecurity and lust, and I've got to pretend to myself that I'm not actually trapped inside of it.
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