Conference Call Woes

I'm happy to say that I was assigned a partner in crime to help me sort through the mess that I've been working on since the wee days of October.

And I love her.

She's calm. She's not burnt out and she's an expert in leases. I thought I knew leases (how complex can they be?) UNTIL I spoke with her. She gives me hope that this project will be out of my life by Friday at the latest.

UGGHH. So we had a conference call at 730. I call in to the line, I'm on time, I have my work in front of me, J & baby are upstairs, the dogs each have a bone. I'm all set. I even use our landline (first time I've ever used it) to call in so that my cell phone service wouldn't cut out. While the biotch I'm working for is yammering on about something (to ME, mind you), my finger hits the "Flash" button on the back of the receiver and disconnects.

First of all, do you even remember "Flash" buttons? I didn't! Obviously. And what kind of phone designer would think that placing it on the back of the receiver would be an even remotely good idea. I started to sweat bullets when I saw what happened.

So I immediately called back, re-entered the conference (of 3 people) & the biotch didn't even notice I was gone- UNTIL they announced my re-entry. WOOO-WEEE. She was not happy. But she wasn't happy to begin with (when you have no joy in your life, I suppose this happens. I can personally attest to the fact that she has no joy in her life, as I have been in consistent contact w her a$$ since early October (Lord help me) and she is ALWAYS working). And not begrudgingly. Perhaps she's forgotten the meaning of taking a f*cking break.

Alright, I have to go. This blog entry is depressing me.

Currently drinking: a fine Yellowtail.

Pregnant college roommate: If you are reading this, are you jealous? :) JK