bitchnmoan

the head doctor in my office has promised us a "pizza party" if we recruit a certain number of people from the new list we've been given. we way surpassed that number yesterday, but i'm not holding my breath for the party. there's something condescending about offering us a "pizza party." what are we, fourth-graders? why doesn't he just offer us each a king-size candy bar and a pop? maybe a plastic hello kitty knapsack? i sure hope that mrs. robinson doesn't get mad at us for being so loud in class today.

karen suggested in today's meeting that peyton treat us all to a spa day. being the good faggot that i am, my ears perk up the instant i hear the word "spa." as you may have read, i just had my first massage about a month ago; since then i've been itching for another one. other words that make me tingle are "facial" (not that kind, filthy!), "pedicure," and "aromatherapy treatment." i don't think, however, that a spa day is in the cards for my office anytime soon.

hilary's office is having a "crab feast" today, an event that apparently replaced what they used to call "pigout day." the way she tells it, they combined "pigout day," a day when everyone brought in six million desserts, with "crab feast" day. so (i'm guessing) their boss brings in a billion crabs, everyone else brings in a dessert, and they sit around in the casual clothes and eat.

the fact that i might be having a "pizza party" only makes me more jealous of hilary's crab feast. we won't be feasting on crabs in t-shirts. i'll be getting a piece of pizza out of the conference room and bringing it back to my desk, trying to shove it down my throat before i have to be back in the clinic.

listen to me complain--you'd think i wasn't even being paid to be a musician! oh, wait...