So today at work it was established that there is, in fact, a Paradise Hotel wrap/cast party. Yeah… tonight (okay, just a few hours ago really) and with no one from casting invited other than the head honchos (from whom I’ve learned oh-so-much about how NOT to run a business recently).

Here’s my thing: when I’m head honcho, I invite my underlings to the über-cool happenings. And we’re partners; not boss and underling. Yesterday bossy lady number one said, when we were all (including her) listing office supplies we need, “Uh! I’m not an order-taker!” Of course, the cool-ass PA came around the corner right after that and said, “Yeah. She’s not an order-taker. That’d be ME.”

A-frickin’-men.

I realize there’s a difference between me and the class of people — and I had this issue back when I was pet-sitting at very wealthy people’s homes a couple of years ago — who see everyone else on the planet as servants of some sort. I don’t need someone to schlep my crap around. I don’t need someone to order my lunch. And I certainly don’t need someone else to make sure I get my life taken care of. When I do have an assistant — like I do right now on this job — I say things like, “Would you take a sick day? You’re working too much.”

Eff.

Maybe that’s why I still buy lottery tickets and roll coins to make rent payments.

Whatever. I like me better. That has to count for something.

Bonnie Gillespie is living her dreams by helping others figure out how to live theirs. Wanna work with Bon? Start here. Thanks!