No, not a greeting to a woman of the night but a jovial reference to my impending trip to work.
It's off to work I go.
They've asked me to come in today for a couple of hours to meet my line manager (some spotty teenager no doubt) and chat about Software.
I haven't heard what the working hours are yet, knowing my luck it will be a 40 hour week, 8:30 - 5:30 or something horrendous. I shall say "why don't we start off from 10 until 4 and go from there?" and "I'm going to need a matching footstool with my leather chair". Not that I'm fussy, but if I'm going to get out of bed at some ungodly hour, I want comfort.
Hopefully, my secretary will be an eastern european ex-lap dancer who is trying to leave all that behind her but just feels more comfortable in a thong and tassles.
Smuala L. Jaskone
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