Desiree

I am working today on this cold blustery day of December 26, 2013. The big window behind my desk shows snow-covered sidewalks, benches, bus stops all within the block. Across the street is the train station that takes me home. I do not drive to work. I take the train every day five days a week. I pay for my monthly train pass and then get reimbursed through my company through company dollars. Oh yes, did I tell you- I have my own office and I am just a secretary. How did that happen right? Well, let me tell you the story.

My name is Desiree, and I am a 40-year-old divorcee with three kids, no husband, and bills out of the wazoo to pay on a house that is hard to pay for at best. But the neighborhood is good, and my children are happy. For that, I will suffer a little bit. I am the supervisor of the secretaries for the office. I command a staff of about ten secretaries. Now as to how it happened well it is an interesting concept of maternity leave. I am sitting here in this office because my supervisor who went out on maternity leave decided to leave her position. And as I was covering it, I now hold this position with a killer raise. And my own corner office. Let me scream now- AAAGH!

Wait here is one of my secretaries right now. We will talk later.

***********

“Hey, Sandra. Are the others here for the morning meeting?” Listening she responds to Sandra,

“Good. This one is going to be a long one and I cannot tell you how long. I cleared it with all of the bosses. So, tell them to bring a pen, pencil, highlighter, and pad to the meeting. Coffee, tea, and juice along with snacks and doughnuts will be provided. Oh, and as of right now, all of you will; receive cellular phones paid for by the company. So, when they get there-go to the side table and pick up your telephone explaining that piece of information to the crew. The number is programmed in, and the rules are explained in the packet for reimbursement.”

To you the reader- I like order and control but this will save us all time. Back to Sandra...

“Oh- and Sandra- do not tell them anything other than that. No speculation, please.”

Okay, girl pep talk- you are now the boss. Power suit on- high heel shoes

designer but not sharing name oh -what the hell- Manolo Blahnik

. Hair freshly permed

because I had warning and looked like hell warmed over in need of a perm

and perfect makeup. Nails done, pedicure too-no run stockings

not pantyhose

, and a briefcase prepared over the weekend. Ready as I will ever be.