If I could walk away from my law firm with zero consequences, I would absolutely do so at this point.
If I hear my receptionist say “I don’t know” one more fucking time when asked who is on the phone and/or what the person wants, I’m going to fire her on the spot. It is literally her only fucking job — to relay who is calling and why.
The bankruptcy busy season. The first business day of the year and the phone is ringing non-stop because everyone is finally ready to get their lives together. Everyone is actually showing up to their appointments.
I can’t get into too many details right now, because the cops are going to be involved, and it’s a whole thing, but some shady fuck made fake correspondence from my law firm in an attempt to get drugs through the mail to an inmate. What. The. Fuck. Just when I thought I’d seen it all. I have pics that I’ll post when I can.
I stopped by the office for ten minutes on my way to court and now I’m already annoyed as fuck.
My office space. After dark. When I’m alone.
So many creepy noises.
I have an awkward amount of time to kill before the party tonight. I’m thinking I’m going to head to IKEA and buy some serving trays and miscellaneous shit — that’s a good excuse to get the fuck out of here, right? haha
My employees think the office is haunted. They have stories, I mean, it was built in 1908 so…
I got all caught up and organized. A clean desk awaits me Monday morning.
It’s Laura’s last day, and Thanksgiving eve, so we had to feast.
A guy just called in to ask if I would take his speeding ticket to trial, because it is “unconstitutional.”