“Whereas I could conform to an emo crowd easily enough, pretending to matriculate from upper crust asshats was too surreal. Goose insisted my stellar attitude and superb language skills had to be put on hold while we were inside the building, which meant to had to keep my big fat cow shut. It was the equivalent of asking a little girl not to scream the first time she was personally introduced to Hannah Montana.”

“It was the equivalent of asking a little girl not to scream the first time she was personally introduced toHannah Montana.”

“Listen,” I sighed and reached for my plastic bottle. “I want to get this sh!t over and done. Can we strive to obtain that goal? I have a meaningless existence, and I can’t put that kind of action on hold indefinitely”

“Multitask? What do I look like, a fucking secretary?” My temper flared before I could bite it back. Erica wasn’t the only one with a big mouth. I was constantly in danger of writing checks my ass couldn’t cash, the bearer of a lifelong disease of potty mouth that no amount of soap in this world could properly cleanse.”

“You know.” My voice was laced with sarcasm. “I love being reminded of just how f*cked up people find my company. One minute, I’m asked to be more loving and sweet. In fact, someone once told me it was downright adorable. But when I actually give the public what they want, they think I’m suffering from a chemical imbalance.”

“Rhiannon's Law #63: Fake it until you make it. You might not know what the fuck you're doing, but that doesn't mean everyone else is aware of your inaptitude. When in doubt, hold your head high and pretend you have a clue.”

“I nodded in approval, turned around and opened the door, and stepped into the hall. I walked past the receptionist, smiling at her shocked face when she told me in a superficial voice to have a nice day, and I gave her a parting gift—my middle finger.”