Twilight. In our front door garden: eight baby rabbits bounce around. The size of chocolate bunnies. Probably still smell of the womb.
Today's toffee delight was a brain-damaged board member, built to make strong ED's weep. Filthy rich. With a wolf spider's personality: she sets her trap, she springs her trap. It's all about, I guess, the gotchas. Other human items in the room are simply fuel for her ego's eternal flame.
It is the rare person whose absence shockingly improves the mood. And yet, when Barbara wandered off, to manage her family's real estate empire by Blackberry, people had a great time: they laughed, they shared, they rejoiced in their vision.
Then she returned. Gloom returned. Secretly despise her? Sure. But she has real money. Rule #1 in board work: don't piss off the real money. Even if the particular sack of cash is a human snot rag.
I had to endure this idiot. I approve this message:
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