One of the main reasons that I started journaling years ago was to help me get through a really shitty workplace. We all have had that type of job at one or two points in our lives.
You know the kind; the kind whereas you are driving to work, and you are mentally going thru recent conversations trying to remember if that one special bitch of a co-worker is going to be there that day and if they are, how much contact are you going to have to have with them. That kind. The thing that I hated was that I loved the work; well, actually, if I am going to be really honest here, and I have promised myself that I am, I didn’t like the work all that much but I loved having a job that gave me a management title and a management paycheck. I liked being in on the meetings and the first to know things. Hell – 100% honesty? I liked being in charge of people. Who doesn’t?
I didn’t start out wanting to rule the world but after putting in my time, I felt I deserved the job. What I didn’t know, or maybe I did and I just didn’t want to admit it, was that to get and keep that job I had to suck up to some really horrible people.
One manager was just batshit crazy. At the oddest times of the workday, you would hear her cackle out some laughter that simultaneously ran a chill down your spine and caused your ears to pop. The head cheese in charge was really just a stale piece of cheese, just shaped in the form of a small man with no balls. So maybe cheese isn’t the best analogy for him because of the whole “cheese balls” thing… anyway.
But the main problem in that office was really just one woman. I think a lot of the employees that had left that place over the years could have handled the day to day dealings with the Guano Lady and even Mr. Milktoast, but dealing with this one cunt was always the kicker. I know, I know, that word is offensive, but keeping to my promise of 100% honesty, she was a cunt if there ever was one.
I have often thought about how many lives that this one woman had caused so much heartache in, and I would ask myself if she ever laid awake at night and felt so horrible for all of that pain and suffering that she had caused. I am pretty sure the answer to that question was no, she never did. She never thought that she was in the wrong, ever. So for her to admit that she had caused pain and then to actually feel bad about it would then lead to the assumption that she would change and try not to do it again. And the last I had heard, the revolving door of employees was still swinging.
I guess my reason for writing about this today is that in looking back now, I spent 13 years of my life in that job. That was 13 years of taking all that shit and keeping it bottled inside of me, and slowly letting it out once I got home; around the people that I loved and loved me the most. Every time my husband told me to quit or to look for something else, I would snap at him that he didn’t understand and that I couldn’t just quit. How could we afford for me to be without a paycheck for a period of time? How could I leave my job, who would do the work as great as I had been doing it?
In the end, just quitting was exactly what I did. When No-Balls-Barry (that isn’t his real name just so you know) decided to retire, me and Batshit-Brenda (that isn’t her real name either) both went for his job. Cunty-Carol (that isn’t her name either but from now on it will be) awarded it to you-know-who and I finally reached my boiling point.
And you know what, things were not as bad as I had imagined they would be. My husband was supportive and my kids were grateful that I had more time to make them macaroni and cheese and clean their rooms for them. Why had I not done this years ago?
Years have passed and I have finally found a great job I love. I have a great boss who I like to think is a doppelganger of me but with a better figure, healthier hair, prettier eyes, less cheek fat (both sets) and a whole lot more gorgeous clothes to wear to work. But I count myself lucky.
If you are reading this and you are in one of those types of workplace scenarios and you aren’t known as the cunt around the office, do something about it.
Don’t follow my bad example!
The Bad Example 