Sunshine 'n roses (but not the expensive ones)
My annual review went very well. Indeed, it was the most successful review of my career, but not in terms of compensation. Here's how it went:

I felt like I was in Paris, in the spring, and everything was perfect. The air smelled of boulangerie. I was wearing a jaunty foulard, and my lipstick and hair were immaculate. People smiled at me as they walked by. Dogs and small children flocked towards me. A dove came to rest on my shoulder. My lover approached, carrying an armload of flowers. A warm breeze caressed my neck. When my lover reached me, he gently kissed my cheek. Only one cheek! He was supposed to kiss both cheeks, because that's what they do in Paris! My once-perfect scenario was completely ruined, and I was devasated. Of course, I accepted his flowers (cheap, lame-ass carnations) graciously, hiding my broken heart from him.

In short, I am wonderful and respected, but there's no money honey. Apparently Crabby Corp's spreadsheets tell a very sad tale. So those dreams of Paris will remain just that - dreams.

For now.

Show me the money, don't show me the door
My annual review is coming up. In ninety minutes! Please, please, please let it be worth it. I've had a change in title and an increase in responsibility this year, and I want a big fistfull of dollars to recognize that. I have prepared myself for the usual paltry "Two percent is the best we can do this year" speech, but I deserve better. I don't need better, but I want it. Very badly.

In other news, Icy made me write a new poem. Go on over to 2DM and have a look.