04.03.03 - 5:47 p.m.

Well, obviously I'm not really quitting. Yet. But I will remain bitter about this. Apparently it's the office scandal of the day - people have been stopping by, asking what happened. It really is a minor thing, but I find it funny that everyone is so cowed by Carol's wrath/mood swings that they feel the need to check on me and see if I'm ok. I'm ok!

Also funny how someone said, "Well, we think you're a saint for doing this in the first place." I am the office saint! If they only knew. This is fucking cake compared to what I had to deal with at Movie Company. Like Jack.

I just realized that one of our freelance designers looks like an Oompa-Loompa. This is the same designer about whom Ann asked me, "Is he gay?" and to which I replied, "No, just French." That was not a war-based dig, by the way. He really is French. His name is Francois. He has a pretty thick accent. Sometimes he wears a horizontal-striped shirt. I would not be surprised to see him carrying a baguette one day. That is how stereotypical he is. And it amuses me to no end. Just once I want him to go, like Kevin Kline in French Kiss, "Ohhh, Bahhhhhhhb!" Then I would fall on the floor and someone would have to administer CPR.