around this time my precious work ethic began to atrophy in earnest and - truth be told - it has never returned. a basic affinity for office work may appear expendable to most. but i was a good girl from the suburbs, where self-worth was color-coded and bound and crazy-glued into a diorama. yet when the phone in ursula’s office would ring, i would run to the bathroom to avoid picking it up.
in an essay in which she describes how working as an assistant for a crazy boss killed her work ethic. i know how she feels. actually i think she summed up my life. i wish i could tape the phone conversations i have with my boss. they are far crazier than any of the e-mails. harder to capture though.
