Could You Make Sense Of This?
Joanne, my P.A, has finally snapped and has taken extreme measures to escape from me. She's calling it maternity leave, but I think we all know that this is just an elaborate cover story involving the use of progressively larger cushions.
In any event, we're advertising for her replacement and if you know anyone who would be interested in working for the best boss in the world, then do tell them that they are living in la la land. I, on the other hand, have a vacancy here in Inverness.
You can read the . I wasn't allowed to stipulate mind-reading as one of the requirements. Also, the ability to engage in mindless small-talk about my diet (I've lost half a stone) when there are sixteen other important things to be done.
You also have to accept that the mess on my desk is a sign of my creativity and nothing to do with a lack of organisational skills. Oh no.
Plus there's my most annoying habit...I borrow pens, keep them and lose them.
Could you cope?
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