The Bitches Were Looking Nervous Today

The bitches were in a huddle when I got there. Renee Gord and her now puffy face. Poor bitch, she looks so stressed it is taking away her good looks. The bright eyes, the luxurious skin and the shinny hair have all gone. Her cheeks are puffy, her eyes tired and her hair, more often than not, tied into a kind of messy bun on her head. Well, I guess that's what happens when you don't really know what you are doing and you wing it. Sometimes it works, and sometimes it doesn't.

And Kylie, business as usual, matter of fact, outwardly efficient, but secretly inaccurate rat-faced Kylie.

The two of them looked under the pump when I got I got in. Kylie mumbled some sort of hello, Renee didn't bother.

Kyles worked away, I think, furiously. She seemed to have a lot to do when I checked up on her secretly. She seemed to be doing some sort of journals, when she should have been doing comparison spread sheets.

I have pulled back. In Renee's executive style, she has taken my work away from me and given it to Kylie and she has given me the tedious, simple stuff, which I have knocked over in no time, or, at least I will, but Kylie is struggling with my work and Renee isn't sufficiently across it to identify Kylie's errors, despite the impression she tires to convey.

Renee clicked her fingers at me and asked me to go over what they couldn't get to work. Clicking her fingers? Maybe, I should have been outraged, but secretly I was chuffed, it meant the Gord Bitch was so under the pump that she would resort to such things. Yes, I thought, good to see.