“Ugh! This deadline is looming and I don’t have anything yet!” Sara looked up from her computer long enough to roll her eyes but otherwise ignored me. Fuck her anyway. She never gets her shit done on time. Last month she kept me waiting on her stats until five minutes before the sales meeting. Edward nearly lost his shit when I didn’t have an action plan ready for her failing accounts. One more write up and I can fire her ass. I can’t wait to have one less perky sales bitch fucking up my day.
Unfortunately, I’ll have to cover her accounts and I specifically reassigned Dr. Bunt to her after the Christmas Party Incident. I’m pretty sure he roofied me but I can’t prove it. The problem with being roofied is the drink math is hard to do until it’s out of your system and too late to prove anything.
Maybe he’ll at least check out my kids tonsils. The health care plan here is shit. I work 60 hours a week for barely enough to keep us housed much less pay a $5000 yearly deductible. Thank God I don’t get sick much… except for my Christmas gift from Dr. Bunt. That might turn into a problem at some point, but for now I can steal some samples and keep it under control. I fucking hate that guy! I need to fill Sarah’s spot quickly. I wonder if I can direct recruit and speed things up a bit. I’m going to make a list of potentials this afternoon.
“Huh?” I look up from my revelry.
“C’mon. Edward is waiting for us in the meeting room. Scott has some sort of announcement.”
I enter the conference room through a thick curtain of dread. Scott is the big boss and rumor has it something bad is coming. Also, I’ve never liked the way he looked at me. Maybe I won’t have to worry about Dr. Bunt anymore… I wish that was a comforting thought.
Or not. Scott looks me up and down creepily, as I cross the threshold, “JoElla, I need to see you after the meeting.” I swallow hard and mentally prepare for the worst. I would almost rather be fired if I didn’t have two kids to feed.
Dear Barbara, I’m struggling to understand What possesses you To behave so spitefully In nearly all of our interactions. Was there something specific I did to upset you? Or are you driven by Some internal greed For the kind of power Given only to Middle managers? I’m asking because I’m losing the ability To give a Fuck About your feelings Or even pretend to… As you might have noticed After that one time You know the one… The time I said “Fuck you.” Right to your face But, of course, It wasn’t deserved Or in any way earned By your actions When you forced me To work… With pneumonia… So I didn’t lose my job I mean, I’m not without Regrets However… Telling you off Will unlikely Ever be among them On the other hand… I do strive to be A kinder person One who lives without… Hatred One who has… Compassion And as much As I wish Truly, truly wish (Oh, how much I wish) To be rid of you I also want to understand How much suffering it takes To harm for no reason With nearly every action (Seriously, is there anyone You actually like?) Because it must take A deep self hatred To need to grasp So tightly To even the tiniest The smallest The most minuscule Morsel of power I mean… You don’t seem to know this but Your job… Is not all that.
Source:(picture of open scissors in someone’s hand)
He wished his third wife were here. She was younger and prettier and made other men’s eyes follow him, with envy. But she was away on one of her weekends and he was stuck staring at his first wife’s ugly, wrinkled face.
“How could you let this happen to her?” he spat angrily over his daughter’s broken body on the hospital bed between them. “How could you let her marry him?” He turned and stomped towards the door.
He didn’t notice the scissors until they were stabbed through his trachea.
“How could you let this happen?” his first wife asked.