a#_g@*(_+#$&@de,jmd#*(&(~!!!!
@#asd)(@!__!fedw)W$*%_=%&~! #Q$asdf)(*#$)*!!!!!!!!!!!!!
One thing you should know know about me: I cry. I cry a lot.
When you make me sad, I cry. When you make me mad, I cry. When you condescend to me, I cry. When you're rude to me, I cry. I sometimes cry when I'm frustrated, or confused, or surprised, or bored. Funny, I don't usually cry when I'm actually physically in pain, but any sort of emotional turmoil = tears. Unstoppable.
I had a boyfriend in high school who would yell at me when I cried while we were fighting because he said I was trying to "emotionally manipulate" him. He didn't seem to understand that yelling at me would not make this better.
And when I cry, there is no hiding it or mistaking it. My eyes and face get bright red, and even once the tears stop I'm messy faced for hours. I m not a subtle crier. I have not mastered the art of a single mournful tear.
Because I spent the first hour of work hiding in an office, crying, and trying not to let anyone see. Of course, of all people our CEO noticed when I poked my head out to grab my laptop, and I told him my windshield wiper broke.
Which is true, actually. I should get that fixed. Considering it's pouring. Which, come to think of it, I appreciate. The world is crying for me.
Anyway, my story.
As I have mentioned, this week I've been cleaning the shit out of my place of business. I have done it with a smile (at least outwardly...), have not complained (at least not to my boss...) and have done everything that's asked of me. Despite the fact that in my humble opinion I was given an insufficient amount of time to get this done, I am completely on schedule and pretty much rocked it. Mind you, this whole endeavor is at the behest of a new executive who is, to be frank, a douchenozzle on a power trip.
I don't feel like telling the whole boring saga here (it involves chips and ice, you guys), but the short version is that I did not do one thing exactly as he requested this morning. One tiny thing, after a week of doing everything as I was fucking told whether I agreed with it or not, and I just thought that maybe with my two years of experience at this job I knew better than he did. Clearly I should have just done what he wanted, because I'm obviously just too fucking stupid to have thoughts or opinions or input, but I had to go and try to think for myself, which was a mistake.
And I quote, loosely:
(Please imagine a superior, nasally voice dripping with condescension.)
"This is not a democracy, you all clearly think it is but I am going to change that. Not that I'm a dictator. When I say chips and ice, I mean chips and ice. When I tell you to do something, you just do it, don't ask questions...well, I suppose you can ask questions, but I'm not asking for your input. Just do it."
Oh.
Okay.
Well then.
My fucking mistake.
So, then I fucking cried. Not in front of him, thank God, but I'm guessing word got around to him because I am a really fucking obvious crier. This bothers me even more than him being an fucking prick because I don't want him to think he has the power to upset me, when really, he doesn't. I am just easily upsettable. And I'm just so fucking frustrated that this is the second time this week he has taken it upon himself to scold me for something when he could just, I don't know, talk to me like a person.
#@$($&@#)(*$)(#*$)#@*.
He can go fuck a cactus.
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