11 Minutes

It isn’t a special measure of time in one’s life. It’s the amount of time I have to create this magical post for you.

It’s the amount of time I have before I need to go and prepare to rally the sales force for the last sales day of the month, when really, all I want to do is say, “Hey, fucksticks, you have totally sacked this entire month, you completely sucked the life out of the possibility of hitting the numbers necessary for this month about two weeks ago. Let’s just sandbag what few sales you do pull off today and push them to tomorrow so we can potentially start next month off strong.”

Of course, I won’t do that because that would be all wrong and quitter-ish and shit and I am stubborn and bullheaded, so by the time I arrive on the scene I will have convinced myself they (and I) can pull off this insurmountable sales feat and thereby spend an entire day climbing the sales version of Mt Kilamanjaro. It’s good stuff. I’m like the Jillian Michaels of sales managers. Does her person ever win that show? I don’t actually watch it?

Sorry, I know I went from mountain climbing to the Biggest Loser, but please try to stay with me, we only have 4 minutes left here.

Have I told you about my new boss? She is like an overweight Italian cheerleader. Yeah……what more can I say. That is it. Just chew on that for a few days and we will revisit. Other than to add that she is a bit passive/aggressive. Oh wait, I sort of covered that with the Italian part, right? Not being offensive, I mean, Italian women are passive.aggressive on purpose, right? It is apparently their thing, or something.

Also, I am rededicating myself to becoming an alcoholic. I really don’t understand why this is so difficult for me. I mean, one would think simply drinking morning, noon and night would be easy, yet I can’t make myself do it. I just keep finding reasons not to drink. I need all of you to pitch in and find reasons to overcome my objections.