I don’t mind saying that I’m more than a little ticked off about it. All that brown nosing for nothing. All that overtime entering dates for Biohazard and Deicide, climbing the corporate ladder, learning what to KISS, and when. And look where it gets me.

Now Sidney’s her little golden boy. All day long she compares me to Sidney. On Wednesday she told me that Sidney entered the dates for Glucifer and Jimmy Eat World faster than I could. On Friday she said Sidney answered more emails than I could. And yesterday she said Sidney could fax better than I could.

Every day it’s Sidney, Sidney, Sidney. Sheesh. I think it’s about time I sent an email to my boss.

“Dear Boss: I just wanted to tell you how much I love working here. I think I’ll really go far with Pollstar.com, mainly because you’re a slave-driving imbecile who couldn’t find your way into a free Limp Bizkit show, never mind managing a database filled with tour schedules for Less Than Jake and The Samples. I figure all I have to do is wait for you to screw up, and then I’ll have your job. It’s time for you to take a rest and make way for the best.”

Oooh, that felt good. I learned a long time ago that you shouldn’t hide your true feelings. Well, I have to get back to work. I still have to enter the dates for Spock’s Beard and Carlos Vives, so I better get back to my own desk.

Right after I turn off Sidney’s computer, of course.