My histerical, emotional rant for no good fucking reason

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!

{{{{{{{{{{Biggirl}}}}}}}}}}
Don’t have any answers for you, but there’s a hug. Hang in there, kid.
Drop by if you’re ever in Portsmouth, England, and I’ll take you out, get you rat-arsed on proper beer, and feed you a curry. :slight_smile:

You’ll be glad to know that I have just put your Idiot Boss on the Short List to be removed from the human gene pool when the Mother Ship arrives. :cool:

Hang in there. The password is, “These are not my shoes”, and when you see her eyes turn red and she starts beeping, take cover. :wink:

Actually, I can answer that one :
It ain’t just cream that floats to the top.

I’m used to my boss. We all are here. We usually just laugh at her behind her back. It’s just today I’m not in the fucking mood. And if it wasn’t for the Pit, I’d be fired, because I’m simmering with impotent rage and it was only the fact that I knew I could come here and spout off that stopped me from calling her a stupid cow to her face.

I shouldn’t have gone to that funeral. I probably shouldn’t have come in to work today. I wish I had that beer, along with about 10 others, right now.

Everything sucks and there is no rhyme or reason.

Can I hitch a ride on the ranting-for-no-good-reason wagon too? I hate everything today. I hate people walking near me on the sidewalk. I hate people talking to me. I hate the feeling of air on my skin. I want to go home and go to bed and pull the covers over my head and stay in there with a really good book, my cat, and enough junk food to choke a horse until I’m a human being again. And a flashlight so I can read. That’s all I need. And this chair. And that’s it.

I hate the people who will not move further into the subway car or otherwise out of the way to let new passengers on. They stand like idiots at the door, while the middle of the car is empty, and won’t let more people onto the train. So I must either push them out of the way or pray that the next train is less packed with idiots. I ask the Teeming Millions, what would be the likely consequences if one morning I yelled “Move out of the way, you bastards!” and shoved my way on? Maybe some loud mooing sounds?

Paradoxically, I also hate the people trying to get onto the train who won’t let people exit before they shove their way on. Look, morons, if you let these people off, more room for you!

I hate the volcanic zit that is throbbing in the center of my forehead right now. I know I should leave it alone, let it come to a head on its own, etc. But it is really taking every ounce of self-control I have not to run into the bathroom and probe it. God, I am disgusting.

I hate that my lovely roommate is gone for 2 months for school. She couldn’t afford to pay rent both here and out there, and in her place I have a subletter. I have to deal with the annoyances, bills, etc., but all the subletter’s money goes to my roommate. I must preface this by saying the subletter is very nice, and she and I will become friends. But she must be trained. She does not understand that when magdalene is at the computer, it’s quiet time. Do not stand near me and talk to me and say “Who are you talking to?” and try to read my instant messages over my shoulder. Go on an apartment-wide cleaning spree if you must, but do you really need to sweep under the chair that I’m sitting in right now, while I’m in it? I’m glad that you’re thrilled that I went grocery shopping today. However, you should realize that I shopped for myself, and myself alone, and that you should do the same if you plan to cook this week.

I hate that some wet-behind-the-ears-punk just came up to me and asked me to file a pile of stuff larger than me, just because he can. I know it’s his job. He knows it’s his job, but he’s testing to see whether I’ll obey or I’ll call him on that fact. I am resisting the urge to box his ears, but I’m a temp. So at some point I will either quietly shuffle off to the file room, or I’ll perpetually leave the pile there in a flurry of more urgent things that have packed my schedule until he comes and does it himself.

I’m sorry about your friend’s nevvy, Biggirl. It’s so odd - you can get through something like a funeral, but then it’s someone’s petty stupidity that breaks the camel’s back.

I am crying right now. I woke up pissed off. I can’t see a time in the future when I am not going to be pissed off.

Last night my boyfriend came home after a long weekend away. We celebrated by cooking a wonderful dinner and having a nice glass of wine. Just as we went to his bedroom…his goddamned roomate came home.

His roomate never leaves the room, ever. He is failing all his classes. He keeps us up all night typeing and sleeps all day and we have to tiptoe around him. He is simply taking up space and living on his moms money until he drops out. He spends all his time on the phone telling people about his latest idea for a “screenplay”. All of his work is heavily involved with circumcision, bodily functions, masturbation and death. The sound his computer makes when it turns on is reportably the sound of a baby getting it’s arm amputated. In short, he is a self indulgent masterabotory sick loser. And he NEVER leaves the room. My boyfriend and I get alone perhaps twice a week when his roomate goes into the living room to watch Star Trek. I hate it. I hate my living situation.

And I hate life in general. My teeth are rotting away. Something is wrong with my eye. My classes suck. I’m not going anywhere in my life, and I dont see any future.

And life is so fucking arbitrary. There is no escapeing the suffering.

{{{Biggirl, featherlou, magdalene, and even sven}}}

I hope you guys are feeling better in a few days. I’ve been there (the last month has been constant hell: I lost two very close family members, my dog nearly died and is now blind, and school is hard) but I’m on an up-swing now. It sounds shitty and trite, but it will get better, I promise. You all can personally beat my face in if it doesn’t.

My contributions for tonight:

I’m single and probably will be for the rest of my fucking life. I should just resign myself to no sex ever again and invest in some toys, because it’s not looking good right now.

I hate my job. I really hate my manager, the smarmy bitch who speaks to me like I’m a stupid five-year-old and expects me to do all the work on the face of the Earth and cure AIDS in the four hours I work every night.

I hate driving 40 miles to school and back every day. I’ve turned into a road-rageaholic and use my middle finger regularly. I can eat a PopTart, drink hot tea, smoke a cigarette, scream at other drivers and drive at 80 mph all
at the same time. This was not a skill I had hoped to cultivate.

My wallet was stolen from my (locked!) locker last night. I had to cancel my two credit cards and a bank card and spent two hours at the MVA getting a new liscence, which cost $25. I also need to get a new student ID, which costs $15, only so I can spend all weekend at the library doing reserve readings for my Shakespeare 351 course.

I feel much better now. Thanks.

{{{{{ Biggirl, featherlou, magdalene, even sven, Nacho }}}}}

Well, if it helps, I am going to detonate 4 1/2 lbs of explosives later this week. I’ll keep yer problems in mind, and will try to get pictures from the range.

It may not really help the problem, but I always imagine that I’m turning my problems into toast. :smiley:
Tripler

Great big hugs to Biggirl and all others experiencing the shaft in this fleeting existence we call life.

Who else is having a shitty day today?

I feel terrible. I checked my e-mail before class this morning only to find a note from my mom saying my grandfather is in the hospital again. Fortunately it’s not too serious – he fell while crossing the street and broke all the fingers in his right hand. He’s doing okay and will eventually heal. But it drives home my fear that the next time I visit home may be too late. (I live abroad and thus far have only made it home for a visit once in the past three years, due to financial reasons.) I still have all four grandparents but none are in great condition, and I worry myself sick about it.

Then when I got home from work I checked my e-mail again. One of my best friends wrote to let me know that a good friend of ours from high school has just died. He was 23, and died of pneumonia. It just isn’t supposed to happen! He was such a great guy. Smart, funny, exuberant, and all-around very likeable. Only yesterday I learned that our class was planning a reunion this summer. I was sad because I knew I probably wouldn’t be able to make it. Now I don’t know whether to feel relief at not having to face a reunion where my friend isn’t present, or even worse because I won’t be able to share my grief with the rest of my friends. I haven’t seen him in 5 years but I am miserable. Fuck.

And I can’t even have a hug because Mr. Nim is working on a ship somewhere off the coast of Africa and won’t be home for three more weeks.

Thanks for letting me rant and sympathizing; I hope I’m speaking for everyone when I say I’m feeling much better now.

The trick is not to get angry at things that are under no one’s control.

Sometimes, thought, it’s hard. I think knowing Tripler was blowing things up made me feel better.

Its not cheating if its on the Internet right?

Gives Nimue a CYBERhug

Naw, it’s not cheating. Thanks WhiteRaven. :slight_smile: