Gobble, Gurgle?

Wow--raining again. Not a good setup for tomorrow's balloons. SpongeBob might not be able to make his Macy's debut. Smart that I bought a new umbrella in Duane Reade. Let's see if I don't do a "Mary Poppins" and fly down the street with this wind.



A new team is in place, and my modus operandi is to work around the Geminis. I mean go sideways, under the cracks, over and completely subvert them. I've mastered the art of sidestepping those that don't see me. This weird talent goes back to 1978, when I got to Visitation Academy, a school in which I didn't belong. In terms of what they already think of me and my work, I expect more of the same. I'm biding my time to get off the floor, if that's what this new system does for me. All sorts of implementations and changes are taking place, so let's see if I can do it. The various management intimidation tactics will not work on me. It's narcissist overload, anyway. I can read these cockroaches like a book.



And once again, all these damn vacation days. I think two days off per month will be what I do through 2005. No more princesses, Gucci purses, shopping, diamond rings or bullshit. I've got no patience.



This week's read? The 48 Laws of Power. Good stuff, kiddies. I recommend it if you're trying to navigate the quagmire of stupidity. Useful, wonderful stuff.