Hot on the heels of my crepuscular (I don’t even know what that means but I couldn’t bring myself to write “craptacular”*) performance review comes a meeting to discuss my future with the company. My goals and plans, charting the erect-phallus-like trajectory of my rapacious career. This is coming up in like half an hour, this meeting, and this future, and if I wasn’t so ablaze with taco-fueled apathy I’d be worrying about what I’ll say.

See because what they do here is assemble a list of various things to accomplish over the course of the year in addition to your everyday work. So if you ever have any downtime, you should not post degrading and libelous things to your blog but instead do a nice extracurricular PowerPoint presentation or research current trends and report back (these are always precious because despite working exclusively online, no one here seems to actually use the internet, so we get red alerts about hot up-and-coming trends like Friendster and flash mobs and like bold tags or whatnots).

So to fill out this abominable to-do list we have to discuss where I see myself heading and what skills I’d like to work on. This is like in a job interview when they ask: “Why do you want to become a part of the data-entry industry?” Or the chicken-preparation industry or the semen-mopping industry or whatever horrible job you’re trying to get because you’d like to buy food, and you have to come up with some passionate backstory about how it was always your dream to neuter bulls and your entire life was just prologue to this one sweet moment, etc. So like I have to pretend that I envision a long and richly woven tapestry of adventure here, and manufacture some goals and make them believe it when I say “I’d really like to helm some projects and be more face-to-face with the clients.” And when the tiny tear of misery trickles down my fat little cheek, I’ll just say: “Oh, sorry, I just get a little emotional when I think about all the great years we have ahead of us here.”

*OK I looked it up and crepuscular could actually work, if you think of that review as signaling the end of my copywriting career just as the setting sun signals the end of the day. Thank you O Lord for blessing Me with the gift of pulling words from Mine ass. See, I can capitalize pronouns referring to Me, too, you’re not the only One, mister jerk!!!!!!!!!1