Boy time crawls when you’re not having any fun. The temp day job went all pear shaped . . . the middle aged blond in the high heels waited for a day when the boss wasn’t around to go all Joan Crawford on me. But much to her annoyance, homey don’t play dat. Being not fond of live action confrontation, I chose to beat a hasty withdrawal, boy she REALLY didn’t like that. Let the temp agency fence with this wench – can’t call her the ‘B’ word because she doesn’t deserve it. Being made of Grade A bitch material myself – I know where the boundaries lie. If she had said to my face “I don’t actually WANT you to fix the database because then I would have to actually WORK.” I’d have had shitload more respect for her. Just as well, damn day job was eating into my blogging and booking time – not to mention my book blogging time.