Peppermint latte. Mmmmmmmmm.

So, as of this summer, I’m managing my first employee. It’s a little weird to have someone come to me like, “Do you want me to research the clinical data first or make photo shoot appointments?” What? Who, me? Yeah, I don’t really know what I’m doing, but I’m pretending that I do. It’s been good—Megan’s awesome and motivated and smart. I hear my colleagues bitch about their employees falling asleep at their desks (oh, and such a short while ago that employee was me) and mine rocks.

And she puts up with so much crap from a certain someone else in our department. Megan just got back from her family vacation to find approximately 80-gajillion boxes in her cubicle. My boss put them there thinking Megan wasn’t returning until Monday, so Meg spent her morning burrowing a tunnel to her computer. The good news is that if the office were suddenly attacked by Vikings, Megan would be protected by a fort made of cardboard boxes full of surgeon training binders.

Meanwhile, I’m a tired and dried out. I went out for beer(s) last night, then S. and I sat up talking and goofing around till 1 a.m. and my alarm didn’t go off, so yet again, I show up to work where my one employee has been dutifully digging her way through crap to start organizing our literature catalog, and I roll in 45 minutes late in jeans and a t-shirt and wet hair with bags under my eyes like, ohhhh, you’re back today? Would you be a doll and run to Dunn Brothers and get me a peppermint latte?

People who take the last pull of coffee in the office on a Friday morning and don’t start a fresh pot should be forced to drink day-old decaf for the rest of their lives. It’s called grab a filter, dump in a bag of grinds and hit “start,” people. For the love.

Okay, I didn’t send her out for coffee even though I wanted to because I’m not that kind of boss. On that note, I suppose I should go do some work now.