junecleavage

I am going home in one week...ONE WEEK FUCKERS (you, per se, are not the fuckers but anyways)..in the interim I have two company quarterly business meetings that I plan, lead and coordinate for six of our offices and THEN on the DAY I leave (next Friday) I have our COMPANY 24 office (NO ABSENTEES ALLOWED) meeting where I will give A(NOTHER FUCKING)presentation because we are the "incubator" emulator office, and I am the prototype (and I wish I were kidding-if you could read some of the owner and VP emails to me you would comprehend my disdain). Then rush home, pack and hop on a plane with my two whiny kids and lovely husband, land in Philly, and check email because having a "vacation" in my profession is a circulatory word. "Vacation" typically means, we will call you every other hour rather than every TEN MINUTES. I knew this going in. I know this about my profession. It does, for the record, guarantee me work no matter where I live. It's funny because by reality my profession is (should be) singing/songwriting but by fiduciary context I am a goddamned indispensable real estate marketer, agent schmoozer. My "real job" description should BE singer/comedienne. Which, if you were in my office, you would discover I had found a way to make my reality.
This cute (I mean ridiculously CUTE - LOVE HER) new receptionist we are hiring today just said " I really like that Courtney...she is always making weird noises or singing."
Young Jedi, you speak truth that even The Roots would sing about.
Trust.
Hometown:

Home city:

Where I will be: