goal, man

I'm contemplating a return to the hallowed halls of Goldman, if only so that I can finance a lifestyle where I could fly all over the world and sup on prosciutto and melon. The catch-22 is of course that were I able to finance such a lifestyle, I would not actually be able to live such a lifestyle. So maybe what I'll do instead is to chuck in the towel on today, which has been one long, irksome waste of time dealing cantankerously with cantankerous people and generally being on a post-London blue, and skip out, go get the new season of 24 and other DVDs including X men, and have a long, late lunch with my ONLY friend in SL, at a lovely Western cafe, loading up on brownies and ice cream.

And I found this on dealbreaker.com which was quite simply hilarious.

(This part originally from a Bloomberg columnist): (Stories all about Goldman Sachs employees)

The diaries are penned, allegedly, by junior staffers around the world. So, pinch of salt at the ready, let's join the young masters and mistresses of the universe. Meet Amol, a vice president in Treasury. Amol says he's at his New York desk by 7:30 a.m. He must be a genius speed-reader. While I'm wading through invitations to boost my bedroom performance or help relieve deceased African dictators of their ill-gotten millions, it takes Amol just 15 minutes to sprint through his e-mails and check on the day's news.

Frankly, we think Amol is full of shit. An accurate representation of Amol's day would have started more like this version:

6:45 AM - Alarm goes off
7:00 AM - Get out of bed
7:10 AM - Drag my ass to the gym
8:30 AM - Drag my ass back to apartment
8:45 AM - Wake up sorry ass roommate
9:00 AM - Get to work, digest Page Six and Drudgereport
9:06 AM - Wonder if I will ever be on Page Six, and under what circumstances
9:12 AM - Receive call from irate landlord over noise
9:20 AM - Call sorry ass roommate, tell him to turn down stereo
9:30 AM - Ask myself repeatedly, "What'm I supposed to do? What'm I supposed to do?
"9:45 AM - Salvage faint glimmer of what I am supposed to do. Open LBO model from shared drive
10:30 AM - After working on LBO model for 45 minutes, realize this is the wrong one. Narrowly avoid taking over a perfectly innocent Muffin Company.
11:15 AM - Write email to ex girlfriend she is great, and I mean, I don't know yet...
12:30 PM - Break for lunch. Contemplate taking up a smoking habit. Can't find cigarette brand I identify with. Shelve idea.
1:15 PM - Bathroom break. Smuggle a novel into the John. Spend way too much time on job. Become neurotic as someone sits down in stall adjacent. Feel like prisoner on Russian gulag. Leave stall.
1:35 PM - On way out of bathroom, check self out in mirror. Practice various serious expressions in mirror. Throw shoulders back. Admire own tie.
3:00 PM - Lost time. Bang watch hands. They don't go back into place. Look around in awe. Can't figure it out.
3:45 PM - CNN.com. Re-evaluate plans to purchase gas mask.
4:15 PM - Decide against purchasing gas mask in favor of new Gucci loafers. With silver buckles this time.
5:00 PM - Mother calls. Send to Voicemail. Begin referring to mother as Sendtovoicemail.
5:30 PM - Call from client. Working.
6:45 PM - Order dinner. Debate the intricate differences between General Tso's Chicken and Sesame Chicken. There are none.
7:45 PM - Eat dinner, trawl television for Reality TV. Struggle to make witty jokes to impress coworkers.
8:15 PM - Probe nascent gut with hands. Am I getting fat? Can't remember what I used to look like. Can't make comparison. Will just have to wait and find out.
9:00 PM - Exeunt.

(and may I just say it's true. All my friends used to wonder where I got all the free time to make free international calls all over the world and read six newspapers a day).