power brokering

My friend Lovey Thurston Howell III pretends to think that I have this crazy powerful job (as opposed to being the writer/editor/hack that I am), and whenever she calls me at the office, she asks something like "So, did I disturb another meeting of world leaders? How have you altered the fate of the planet with your power-brokering and high-level negotiations today?"

I usually sigh dramatically and then respond moronically along the lines of, "Well, Kofi is getting all up in my grill, and he's a good man and all, but fortunately we've managed to get Condi to back off, you know. Meanwhile we've switched the GDP of Thailand with Ecuador, halted the environmentally destructive boolifruit harvest, but I'll be damned if I can't get those shipments to turn back from Italy in time for the vernissage at the gallery in Mongolia next week!"

She then replies with something like "Call the Swedes darling, they're very good at that."

Then we make plans to go for a walk and have a cup of tea and maybe talk about the possibility of doing a canoe trip this summer. Because, you know, even high-level international negotiators who hold the fate of the world in their hands have to take time off and go sleep in a tent and cook dinner over a fire occasionally.