My boss is an idiot of the worst kind. The worst kind of idiot is the kind that doesn’t know something, pretends that she does and then blames the person who happens to be standing nearest for her own stupidity.
“Biggirl, why did you send a job to my printer? I’ve told everyone to send their jobs to the printer in the mailroom.”
“I didn’t send anything to your printer.”
“You must have. Why else would I be getting all your timesheets?”
Because your a stupid cow and accidently sent them there yourself while working on your report. The fucking papers tell you which terminal sent the job. Yours. See?
“It didn’t come from my terminal. It came from yours, see?”
“Well, if everyone would just listen to what I say and use the printer in the mailroom, these mistakes wouldn’t happen!”
How come this idiot gets to be my boss? No reason, just the way life turned out.
My sciatica is acting up. I hope I’m not bedridden by the end of this week. Why do I have sciatica. No cause. No reason.
Cancer killed my best friends husband at age 36. It killed my godmother at age 42. It probably killed my fucking cat. How come fucking cancer gets to decided who lives and who dies? No reason.
I’ve got an old high school friend. We barely keep in touch now, but 20 years ago we were as thick as thieves. Her sisters used to tart us up before we went out dancing.
I get a call from her this Friday. Her sister’s son was hit by a car. He was just 11 years old. I don’t know why I was so stupid as to go to the funeral. He was so young. Just a baby, really, sleeping in that box.
Why? How come? No good goddamn reason.
I’m so angry. I’m angry at no one. There’s no one and nothing at fault. But the absolute rage I feel is bringing tears to my eyes for no good reason.
Fuck life!