I want a raise

Wow. We sure could use a little light relief at work.

(No wonder we cling to what crumbs of gossip we can gather up from under the cafeteria tables. I’d kill to know what Sam’s been up to...)

Know what else I could use? That raise. Why does he think I’m kidding around with that? I’m not sure I’m paid enough to be barked at all day about wanting a salad then not wanting a salad. (Which was a bit of a relief – I thought for one minute that perhaps he had suffered a blow to the head, or something.) Then wanting water right now. Then my supposed inability to spell. Of course I can spell. Like he’s infallible anyway.

Hrmph.

I shall from now on make damn sure he always has something to do.

Though I gotta say, I’m glad he had the time for Charlie. The big brother role suits Josh; However much I may rail against him sometimes (okay, every day), he’s a fundamentally good guy after all. There, I’ve said it, and now I never need to say it again. Also, his gut instincts are often not as way off as I like to imply. (Someone has to keep his ego in check. And since I’m already so far beyond the call of duty.... Which brings me back to my point about my raise.)

You know what, though? Josh is right about one thing (and only one): this feeling, the one Charlie talked about, it doesn’t go away. And that, in the end, is why I’ll stay, despite the pathetic salary – for all eight years, maybe longer, obnoxious boss or no.