N

N is headed for another heart-attack me thinks. The reports I generate cause him nothing but anxiety. And they should. The economy is in lousy shape and our book is beginning to look like shit.

It makes me sad. And I worry constantly. What if I'm doing something wrong with the numbers? Making silly, avoidable nistakes... like that one.

But I love N. He is silent courage under fire. He always has the cutest smile on his face, like a father resigned to his delinquent children. I bet he hates his life right now. He should go home and give his wife a hug.

I sort of hate my life right now too. But only because I messed up one report that made N's performance look abysmal. In my defense, his performance was abysmal, I just made it look slightly worse by making some.. er.. nistakes.

In N's defence the economy is in lousy shape and our book was bound to start looking like shit sooner or later. But who listens to N? All they do is push him. And give him heart attacks.

N is lovely. He laughs at all my jokes. I love N.

N is only about 46 years old. Pity...