Journey through space to the Planet Fabulous, where the Ruler of the Universe will see you shortly.

Wednesday, December 03, 2003

There May Be Trouble Ahead

Today I’m orbiting on the Satellite of Love, as being Wednesday, I take a day off from ruling you all with an iron fist. I’ll make sure I’ll point and wave when I go over your house. In my place you’ve got z-list chanteuse Sonya whom, I believe, we managed to rescue from her incarceration in the Bolton production of Grease. She was so pleased that she shattered all the windows in the limo with a top-c, for which I’m making her pay for. So I officially own her for the next seven years, it seems. Do drop me some suggestions of what I should do with her.

Meanwhile, with my other job that takes up most of the day, there is turmoil. Not only have I actually been busy for the first time in around two years, leaving my blog and manicure to suffer, but my boss has decided that she’s finally had enough of our whole dysfunctional department and is heading south to Australia. Little realising that I’ll be following her a month later. Vote now if you want me to go with a hunting spear.

When Jo (for it is she) first started, we were more than a little at odds. I found her too meddlesome, she found me aloof and difficult. Well, I am. It came to a head when the management were planning to send us onto ITV’s flagship show Gladiators to battle it out with oversized cotton buds, but it turned out to our great surprise that we both had an allergy to Ulrika. This common ground was the first inkling of a friendship to come, one that will culminate on her last day on Christmas Eve when it’s just us two in the office, happily making snowballs.

Oh, not with snow. No, with Avocaat, dear.

In the interim, we’ve been interviewing possible replacements for her position. We had this dullard arrive who was thrust into the meeting room with the four-strong department. Recall the moment when the blank-eyed cow was lowered into the raptor pen in Jurassic Park, withdrawn moments later as a ragged mess. I do not lie when I say that the gentleman in question withdrew his application a day later.

Yesterday, we delighted in a second dupe arriving into our world to try out the job. How's best to describe her?

My, she wears a lot of black.
She's got a big personality.
Oh, she looks like she's the life and soul of the party.

In short, there’s not a cake trolley in the world she doesn’t look like she’d pass. I theorise that she doesn’t wear a lot of black at all, and actually turned up to our interview in a lovely floral-print dress. It is simply the case that her mass is so large that not even light can escape her gravitational pull, resulting in her looking like she’s wearing stretched lycra. Shudder.

She did give a good interview, and will be very accomplished at the job. Almost too good, I feel. I am also worried that she didn’t flinch under my scowl at all.

All of a sudden I’m feeling very, very aloof and difficult.

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