Tuesday, January 18 2000
The temperature was sixty degrees this morning as I set off for work. That's warmer than an average July morning, so I wore shorts to work.
My co-worker Al tells me that the Grand Pooh Bah has been reading my journal (and actually thinks it's funny). So I guess it shouldn't be surprising that everything he says at the weekly company meeting seems designed to appear in here. Today he told us "those of you nine-to-fivers won't last long," as if anyone in the company actually works nine to five. I usually work eight to six, and today was no different, but with this sort of talk I felt an unnecessary additional coat of job insecurity. The Grand Pooh Bah's psychological reign of terror has to be about the most antimotivational crusade to which I've ever been exposed.
Today I heard the Grand Pooh Bah taking a shit in the bathroom. He was making an awful lot of grunting noises as he attempted to force out those fragrant loaves. I suppose birthing brown babies is somewhat difficult for someone with his type of personality.
I spent a good fraction of the day helping Paul, the technical recruiter, with staffing a booth at a job fair up in Mission Valley. It was fairly dull work, but I rather like watching Paul in action as he feels out the psychologies and intelligence of the candidates, whether they're worthy of the coveted resumé star or perhaps more suited to be reviewed by our good buddy Norm (the trash). Paul is good conversation on other topics as well.
In the evening, Kim and I had a massive fight about the most trivial issue you can possibly imagine. I casually told her about a couple of cute girls at the job fair over in the Sony booth who voluntarily gave me two Sony water bottles, the sort you put on your bicycle. Kim threw an epic jealous fit, demanding to know if I wanted to go out "with them." I was furious to find my evening being taken up with such a ludicrous discussion.
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