References

Dear Diary:

Today I sat around and did nothing. I took my ingrate of a dog out for a walk, picked up his shit, and hoped that his pee didn’t splash on me as it hit the pavement. Not too much different than how I felt while working for BigLaw.

I applied for a temporary agency today. They want three references. I can only imagine what former BigLaw partner will feel when he gets a call from said temp agency. All three of my references are from partners who didn’t agree with my being let go and who agreed to be references. I didn’t put any senior associates down because who really cares about piddly associates? But then I got to thinking. Why don’t I put the managing partner’s name down so he can get a call from the temp agency when they have a position for me doing monkey contract electronic document review. I’m sure that will make him feel bad, just a little. At least it will annoy him and hopefully lead to yet another clogged artery in his fat body. Why don’t I put down the name of the asshole woman partner who seemed to have a tiny organism when she told me I was laid the fuck off. I’d love to see them squirm. It wouldn’t matter if I didn’t get the temp job, it would be worth it just to harass them with temp agencies calling for references (I came from BigLaw. Do I really need fucking references to do document review? Do you need a reference to know whether a monkey is good at flinging shit? No. And you don’t need references to know whether I can read meaningless documents and click “responsive” or “nonresponsive”. ridiculous.)

On another note, I don’t watch Sex and the City but I happened to catch the part where Carrie gets broken up with Berger on a sticky note. I would have preferred that or an actual pink slip left on my chair than have Mr. Fat Partner and Stupid Bitch Partner sit me down and tell me I got the boot and act all superior.

The sad thing is, for them anyway, that I wouldn’t trade places, even for a second, with Mr. Fat Partner who has either had or been the victim of several affairs and Stupid Bitch Partner whose ovaries will dry up because no man will ever sleep with her because she is a cold hearted bitch. Which reminds me, why is it that almost all senior associates and partners who are women are Ice Queens? I bet they’re frigid in bed too and counting in .25 increments about how long it’s taking.

Again, relief, just like after I take a shit. That’s what I felt when I was laid off (and then of course, joy, when they told me I got a severance). I will be wiping my ass with two-ply toilet paper that I bought with my severance package that lowered those asshole partners’ PPPs (even if ever so little). I will enjoy it.

–Reference your mother

*Posted April 3, 2009

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