I was promoted today.
In the midst of an otherwise particularly mundane work day, I was assigned a task whose importance and impact are so great that I may be considered next in line to The Boss Lady. I was dispatched to measure the parking lot. Like so many unexpected accolades one receives (Paul Krugman, I'm talking to you!), this one happened when I was totally engrossed in something else. I was busy, even!
The Boss Lady -- whose heavy gait rivals that of an African elephant, despite her small frame -- stampeded into my office and asked me to help Special K. With what, pray tell? The alphabet? Tying her shoes? This mission was far more important, though, and I felt a special sense of honor and dignity as I was handed a measuring tape and told I was to help K measure the parking lot. Evidently, despite having no money for raises or other "benefits," our company is going to outfit our parking lot -- seen only by our 7 employees and a couple dudes from the company next door -- with a glorious flower bed. Special K and I were charged with the job of determining how much space this back yard botanical garden will take up.
The gripping conclusion to this story is that S overheard our accountant and The Boss Lady questioning our suggested figures, with the accountant insisting that she get out there and measure in order to obtain a more accurate number. Let's just say I didn't execute the most exacting procedures in quantifying our parking lot space.
Good riddance.
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