My assistant, Jim, woke me on Thursday. I like being able to say, “My assistant, Jim.” Makes me feel like Marlin Perkins.
I’d been sleeping – leaning back in my big, swivel chair with my feet on the desk – in the office again. No, I haven’t fired Bridgett already (that’s the girl I hired in New York). Jim is my Washington assistant. Bridgett hired him. She’s hired all my staff.
Jim pointed out that at the end of the day I would no longer be the newest member of Congress, the woman replacing Ed Markey would have that honor. And I had yet to make even the most banal of general speeches to the empty chamber (and a C-Span camera). This, he said, was why people didn’t know me.
He further announced that it was likely our last day in session for the year, that we would pass the…
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