Snowball Diary Page 5

I hate this job. I only ran for office in the first place because my father made me, and now I’m stuck faking sympathy for a bunch of interest groups with their pockets turned out. I can’t step outside for a smoke without some nut trying to spit in my face because they couldn’t control their spending, so they need someone else to blame for it. Then I get chastised for smoking the cigarette. My only comfort was the thought that a Marilyn Monroe type might come looking for a secretarial position. Instead I get a pile of resumes from women who are 3’s at best. My wife watches me like a hawk anyway. But if I hear one more complaint about the economy, the war, or immigration, I may just impeach myself. Maybe I can visit the troops next week and get out of this office for a bit. At least they’re more fun to talk with.