Finally!

Today is Friday, the end day for a woefully slow week. People were ready to climb off walls at three pm yesterday, and were just about ready to bolt at five-thirty. Even my former boss--and may she stay my former boss--was bored out of her skull. She normally pretends a hecka lot better, but for some reason she couldn't find the energy to even look productive yesterday. She still stayed late though. With the project down to one more year, she has less time to steal the office secrets. Leeching off office resources is a tough job, but knowing her...well. She can do it!

The big-boss is still out in Indonesia getting some sun. I think she's xenophobic. I don't think she's comfortable with asian people...or people in general.

Yay for the former boss--and may she stay my former boss--then. With the big-big-boss out for a business conference, the big-boss roasting in the Bali sun, my former boss--and may she stay my former boss--is getting the high of her life.

It amazes me that she's convinced that this power-tripping lunacy is okay because she prays to God. Or prays a lot to God. More than the usual, though a lot less than a monk. But that it's acceptable since she makes up for it through sheer belief--which is more than the usual--and she thinks about Him a lot and goes to Church. I know she thinks it's more, she counts...BTW, did I ever mention that she is my former best friends mom? You know, the one who counts?

They ought to have been business majors. I think my former boss--may she stay my former boss--was an accounting major. Whichever case, they both count too damn much.

There's this Star Trek: Enterprise fanfic that I read once that really struck me. Dr. Phlox was talking to T'Pol and he said something like "I will never understand humans and their nature to count favors. It is a favor, you do not have to pay it back."

I would have liked to silkscreen it on my shirt and wear it to work on casual Friday. Maybe my former boss--may she stay my former boss--will react to it...or she could just think I was possessed by the devil (though I think shes's already convinced that I am)

My office has this cool dress code policy. They've bent the Smart Casual rule more than Captain Janeway has bent the Prime Directive. People show up for work in this mock Marc Jacobs/Ralph Lauren inspired country club sportswear. I've come to appreciate the fact that I can show up for work in slacks and birks.

Anyway, my former boss--may she stay my former boss--has this rather cultish Catholic behavior. I don't mean faithful, but cultish. The kind of zeal that you find in born again Christians only with the fanatical edge that you get from those end-of-the-world people.

They're not stock-piling ammos or food or anything, but they do come up with these weird shit. Like "the pope has been given an extension by God. That's why he's not dead yet." or "I don't care what other people may say, God knows what i'm doing..." Uh-huh. I say have a wonderful time justifying everything that you did. God may or may not count, but i'm pretty sure that one of His angels is doing accounting.

They also say that the Free Masons are out to rule the world.

I don't get it...do they have some sort of hotline that they call? Some LoneGunmen type of publication that they subcribe to? Or do they hear these cryptic messages through cracks in the wall or letters written in the sun? Where the hell does she pick up these things?

It scares and awes me at the same time that they could kill me if God ordered it. I admire the faith...but just how the fuck are you sure that this came from God?

That always did bother me.

I always wondered what it would have been like had I lived during the time of Christ and I actually saw him. Or be one of those jews following a pillar of fire or crossing a parted sea.

Miracles have changed. You no longer see them as burning bushes, but in the faces of people who have extended kindness and hope in places where there would have been none.

So what's my miracle for today...maybe not a pillar of fire or a burning bush. Not even a schizophrenic voice from a crack i the wall. Maybe its just me, in my new desk, in my own new space where I never see my former--and may she stay my former--boss.