Vampires and Pastries…These are a few of Girl Friday’s Favorite Things!

Girl Friday took the weekend to decompress after finishing three grueling days at The Bank. The Office aka The Basement housed thousands of boxes of important files, rickety chairs long abandoned, and holiday decorations. Girl Friday whined and cursed at herself for taking on the suspiciously well-compensated assignment. She’ll never fall into that trap again! On the plus side, Girl Friday padded her bank account for Christmas and sampled the delectable baked goods from the pastry shop next to The Bank.

Upon arriving for her first day, Girl Friday waited in the reception area of the division where was she formerly employed. The executives and drones were just as friendly as she remembered. They passed her in silence and inwardly resented her for crumpling the L.A. Times. Girl Friday spent forty minutes reading about the dwindling restaurant business and a biting review of a “too cute” television show she had already penciled into her nightly line-up.

At 9 AM when her supervisor finally graced the office, Girl Friday headed over to the main branch’s basement/records department. There were signs of danger all about the place. An oversized headstone proclaimed, “I am dead,” and a chalkboard forewarned of vampires (an arrow had been drawn for emphasis) marked the hallway. Despite her misgivings, Girl Friday marched on, armed with one Bic pen to complete the arduous inventory task. The dank basement spooked Girl Friday, making every aisle dark territory and every noise a haunting creak. Girl Friday came prepared for solitude; she had her iPod charged and ready. Alone in the basement, Girl Friday used the long expanses of concrete to practice ballet and the poor acoustics of the place to belt out her favorite tunes.

Long coffee breaks were a daily ritual for Girl Friday. Iced coffees, croissants, and dreams of Parisian paradise broke up the monotony of copying and cross checking. Lunchtime was a feast everyday with The BF. The restaurants transported Girl Friday from the basement to a sleek sushi bar in Tokyo or a rustic cocina in Oaxaca. Girl Friday is nothing, if not imaginative.

Girl Friday wished to complain about the lax security, but found it worked to her advantage since she could come and go as she pleased. Girl Friday wished the break room wasn’t also the mailroom and a veteran employee’s office. Girl Friday wished her supervisor realized she was dealing with a real-live Superheroine. None of these wishes mattered much, but her final wish, that the job would just end already, did come true.

It’s Monday and Girl Friday is back at her trusty desk typing away about this latest misadventure and couldn’t be more content.

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