Priscilla, Queen of the Cubicle, is being as gracious as she can about my new job. She is happy for me. However, I am abandoning her, so I expect that I will have to take some abuse. For fuck’s sake, if it had been the other way around, I would have wrapped myself around her legs and begged her to stay.
I’m going to miss her more than anything else at this job, which on one hand, isn’t saying much..but on the other..I’m going to miss her. Don’t tell her I said so, though. She’ll call me a little bitch for getting all sentimental.
I still have two and half weeks before I leave, so for now, we can pretend that it’s business as usual and I don’t have to think about spending my workdays without Priscilla.
We were discussing Christmas gifts today. She sent me a link to a cross stitch picture with a nauseatingly sweet border, a little house and a picket fence. The words on it said ‘Bless This Motherfucking Home’.
PQOTC: You do embroidery and shit, right?
Me: Yeah. I mean, I’m not overly precise or anything, but I do.
PQOTC: I wanted to get that picture for a friend, but it’s sold out and it’s too expensive anyway. Could you make that before Christmas?
Me: I think so. I mean, it looks fairly simple. I could probably get it done before Christmas.
Me: Do you have a pattern or something I can use?
PQOTC: I could get a pattern, probably.
Me: Hey. Wait. You don’t have any friends.
PQOTC: I do too. I have lots of friends.
Me: WAIT! Am…am I making my own fucking Christmas present from you?
Me: Goddammit. Go get on Amazon and buy me something. Something with Doctor Who on it.
PQOTC: You’re such a dork.
Me: I’m a dork who isn’t making her own goddamn Christmas present.
I am looking forward to my new job. I have needed this change for a long time. But no way am I getting a new Priscilla. This kind of shit just can’t be duplicated.