My New Assistant

I found an acorn at the bottom of my purse. I picked it up last weekend at Oktoberfest and he’s been hanging out with my spare change ever since. I drew a face on it with a Sharpie. Not a smiley face, just two eyes and a straight line. He’s not in a good mood.

My boss is listening to Clay Aiken. My boss is a Claymate. A 47-year old Claymate. She has long, Crystal Gayle hair and she listens to Clay Aiken. Should I repeat it one more time?

Today is the type of day where it is helpful to repeat, “I love my job, I love my job, I love my job…” so that I don’t flip out and tell people what is really on my mind. “I’m sorry that you got a 53 on your exam, Student X. Maybe you should re-think your career options. I know for a fact that your deans are going to recommend that you go into Pathology so you don’t have to deal with people who are still breathing.” Instead, I smile my gentle smile, hand out Kleenex and Lemonheads, and tell them that everything will be okay.

I need help. I have so much paperwork on my desk, I can barely find it. At least I have a new assistant. His name is Clay Acorn.