She was my new boss. My current boss, Andy and his assistant, Daryle, had been let go. I wondered if it was because they are Democrats. (Andy still has a poster from John Kerry in his office window. Daryle's office is my first stop each morning because she remains optimistic about Obama and can usually find the silver lining to my gloomy, pessimistic, loser mode mood.)
Anyway, they were gone. I didn't know how I had not been fired, but I knew I had to save my own ass. I immediately felt bad that I hadn't kept up with my monthly reports and wondered if I could recall all that I had done in the past six months.
She came into my office and was wearing a brown jacket and black skirt. Looked sharp. And looked sharply at me and I knew that I was toast. I tried to brown nose her by saying, "I thought you did well on the second night of those interviews with Charlie Gibson. The first night, not so well." It was a mix of honesty and criticism that doesn't work too well when I'm awake either.
She just looked at me like I was so gone. I'd like to say that I woke up screaming but I just woke up scared.
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