Narcissism and the Titmouse

Today I sat at an empty desk in Accounts Receivable to stamp some HR forms with my currently-on-vacation boss’s signature.  It was MORE quiet and serene than I’ve ever known that area to be – and that area is also home to “Infamous AP and Edita the Bird-Lady”.

There was no muttering from our resident “Roseanne” who sits in the corner about how annoying and RUDE Edita is on the phone or how many PERSONAL CALLS she makes while rambling on endlessly in Latverian.  There was no running to the Accounting Manager’s office to tattle on anyone.  It was heavenly.

Today Edita said the most half-baked narcissistic thing I’ve ever heard…

She asked the other AP chick if someone said her name.  It was wise NOT to contribute to this discussion.  I’d have risked being prodded, aka talked to DEATH, for more information which I obviously didn’t have.  It got all Miss Marple up in here for a minute.

“Who said my name?”

“I swear I heard somebody say my name. Did you recognize the voice?”

All of a sudden it kinda sounded just like my proper Catholic grandmother had been smoking weed in church.

“Oh, ha ha hee hee hee!  Jane, ha ha! – Did you see the titmouse I was feeding outside the window?  You know how – ha hee hee! – it goes ‘chi chi chi’?  It sounded just like it was saying my NAME! Ha ha ha, HEE HEE!” 

Wow.  Edita might finally be losing her mind.  She thought she heard a titmouse say her actual name.

Are you THAT narcissistic that you think your little birdie friends fly over to thank you in between cracking seeds and jousting other eaters with their beaks? Do we work in Snow White’s fucking FOREST or something!?

Trust me, this place is really NOT that magical.Sounds like Elwood P. Dowd has a perfect match over here.  At least Harvey would actually be able to say her flipping name…