Oh, damn, Jilli, that outfit sounds nineteen kinds of awesome. And now I'm craving a bustle skirt even more than usual.
Re Boss #3, not only is his weaselly email as close to a win as we're likely to get, it may well be as close to a win as anyone's gotten in the last decade and a half. Clearing out the file cabinet drawers that nobody had touched since the early nineties, I came across 12-15 years' worth of angry notes, emails and formal letters from my various predecessors yelling at Boss #3 for fucking up one schedule after another and begging him, Please, I can't read your mind and I can't chase you down and get an answer in person every time there's a question about a random half hour. You're making me look stupid to all my supervisors, hurting your colleagues and hurting the patients. Please take some responsibility. PLEASE. And none of it's ever done a damn bit of good.
This tiny crumb of abashment? Probably the most anyone's choked out of him since Chelsea Clinton graduated from middle school.