A day which shall live in infamy

I hope you don't think I deserted you, but today was an especially ruthless day of Christian persecution over at Conchita's Unisex Beauty Palace. It all started with a call from that nosy bitch bank manager who wanted to know why we had so many unreconciled checks, which was news to Conchita. Despite both of our better judgment, Conchita put me in charge of filing our vendor paperwork last August, so out everything came from the cabinet underneath my desk. If you remember that scene in Mommie Dearest when Joan Crawford goes looking for every wire hanger in Christina Darling's closet, you know what I'm talking about.

Judging by her hateful rant, I suspect Conchita is a frequent commenter at Daily Kos, as she questioned my competence, or conscientiousness, or something, in some high-toned lecture about accounting statements and invoices and duplicate payments that was so complicated you evidently need a cosmetology certificate to understand it. The rest of the day absolutely dragged on, as will, I suspect, tomorrow and Friday. But please know what succor it will give me to read my Prayer Warriors at my desk, the site of my Persecution. Praise Him!