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December 12, 2005



It doesn't help that your sneeze sounds like *FFFFNLOSER!*


Stage Three: they instinctly recognize your Erisian majesty and leave you offerings of frankincense and myrrh (and the ocassional toothsome 19 year old near-virgin frat boy). Your picture graces the wall of all cubicles and even the most recalcitrant Office Cynic bows repsectfully at the copier. All day you can hear the whirl of the macrame prayer wheels and the soft, sincere chanting of Pam-Mantras.
As for Stage Four...sorry, you have to die before you can truly understand what that entails!!


I have to say, by way of a gross generalization, that I really love the way you write about office life. The tone. The characters. The bemusement that stays well this side of aloofness. When I was briefly in my little state-sponsored job, this kind of thing crossed my mind, but I just don't think I could have pulled it off (and the my boss? When she hired me she said she knew all about my blog; kind of put me off writing about real law school life).

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