Somewhere there’s a place in hell with her name on it
I arrived at work at 8:29 this morning for a meeting. I don’t do well with 8:30 meetings. My brain usually doesn’t function until about 9:30 and I generally don’t speak until 10. The 10 o’clock rule is known through out the land, because even my Canuckian boss doesn’t call me before 10.
So when Jayto, the woman I wish was my boss, called an 8:30 meeting for this morning I was none too pleased. But, being the good corporate whore that I am, I roused myself from slumber and ambled into the office.
With my eyes still half-shut, my bedhead standing at attention,bag slung over my shoulder, I stumbled into Jayto’s office.
“You’re coming to this one?” she asked.
I nodded my head.
“Oh.” She kind of grinned. “You don’t really need to be at this one.”
From my position at the door, I raised my finger and pointed at her. With my gravelly, still-kinda-sleeping voice I announced, “You will roast in hell for this one.”
And she will.
