Perry’s replacement started at work today. Her name is Susan. Susan the High Flyer, apparently. She’s stacked, long-limbed and was wearing trousers. There goes my secret glass ceiling theory. She’s on about three times my salary, hardly has any qualifications, and has arranged to start late, finish early and have six weeks’ holiday a year, so she can look after her kids. It’s so galling, more so as I’m the one who has to organise her salary to be paid each month. I must get some kids so I can have six weeks’ holiday each year.
Stuart says he appointed her on the basis of her track record in the industry. Apparently, she’s made some awesome deals over the past few years. I can only guess how she’s done that. Meow.
I find it disturbing when women succeed this well. It makes the rest of us look bad. It makes it look as though she was chosen on merit and that we mere mortals aren’t performing up to her lofty standards. The rest of us under the glass ceiling, including the men, are jacked off.