why hello laura's menses, you're early for a change.
no matter, i've been waiting for you anyway, come in, come in, take a seat.
that's right, i've taken the pains to tarp the desk chair so please, please, sit down.
i think we both know why you're here.
it's not your individual performance that i am going to critique. in fact, when you are doing your job best i hardly notice you.
it's not even the riff raff that you choose to assosciate with. i can handle a little teeth gritting abdominal pain and clumsiness though, really, couldn't you bring them around after working hours?
yes, you may have a hershey kisses almond. in fact you can take the bowl with you on your way out.
also could you please listen when i talk to you?
that question was rhetorical.
and stop blowing blood bubbles out your nose? you're breaking health code and it's distracting.
look, let me cut to the chase--
yesterday i had a screaming fight about the movie pineapple express and how it related to a wider conspiracy of female neglect in the entertainment industry (please menses no need to interject--i actually really like that movie and no longer care nor understand what i was even talking about which only serves to prove my point further), this morning i awoke with a giant chasm of nothingness before me even though i enjoyed a morning replete with friendly faces and a kitchen fully stocked with delicious fig newtons, and today on the car ride home from rehearsal i got genuinely misty eyed listening to a john mayer song.
which one, you ask?
the one which is the most preachy and the least sexy: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f38Ne96R3iE
now, need i take the time to explain to you why that is unacceptable?
ok, GOOD. we are on the same page then.
basically, i have come to the conclusion that i would be better off were visited by a bout of explosive diarrhea each month rather than having you sneak in and try and trick me into thinking i am crazy.
i am not crazy.
i am the motherfucking boss.
and you are fired.
my pastel colored esprit skorts from 1993 thank me.
you've been PINK SLIPPED!
--laura.
Genius, Laura. "Blood bubbles out your nose" made me laugh and puke concurrently. Seriously- why have our bodies betrayed us? About a month ago I put on every shirt in my closet, crying the whole time. This is a true. fucking. story.
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