In the midst of evaluating employees, naturally I am on the list to BE evaluated. Lucky me!
My boss is after me to be tougher. She wants me to be, at work, the same Goddess I am when I start talking about my mother. That’s when all the “dipshits” and “dumbasses” and “motherfuckers” start flying out of my mouth.
THAT’S the Goddess she loves. That’s the one she wants running the first floor. And not just so that she doesn’t look like so much of the Wicked Witch in comparison to Glenda the Good Witch. 😉 (Her analogy, not mine!)
I like that we’re a team, running the division. I do like being “nice” although I see what she means — it’s draining when people don’t put forth their best effort and I’m the asshole trying to coax it out of them when I should be a LOT more bottom-line about it.
But this is good. This is the mentorship I never really got. My leadership ability came out of Jack Welch, Peter Drucker and Patrick Lencioni books, for the most part.
And all my leadership roles have had me in “doer” mode — i.e., you never really manage to improve the PROCESS because you’re so immersed in it that you can’t stop a train that’s got momentum and no functioning brakes.
So, whenever I’m being a wuss, she’s asking, “So how’s your mom?” and that unleashes the hellfire and fury of the demons.
I swear, that woman (the Ultra Extra Over Extended Houseguest) is going to be the death of me. And if she’s the reason why I go to hell instead of heaven, well, at least we’ll be in different places for eternity!!!
In the middle of the night, I found candy under my pillow. After a big argument about how she needs a dorm fridge in her room if she keeps insisting on having sweets in the house (as I am a terrible 2 a.m. snacker and fan of all things sweet). Which is why I’ve put on *mumblemumble* pounds that I’d worked SO HARD to lose.
Of course, last time I had this discussion with her, it was, “I don’t know what you’re talking about!” The same asshole who pushed a huge piece of cake in my face last night and I flat-out told her to go to hell in response.
Now, this is the sad part. A friend of mine’s family threw her a birthday party last night. With candles and a gourmet cake and whatnot. Fuck, I don’t even think I remembered to text her “Happy Birthday.” Or maybe I did it “from” George the dog, like she texts me as my cat Kadie. (Which annoys the FUCK out of me, thanks.)
I almost felt bad that someone else’s family treats her better than I do. But they can buy her a cake; I pay her fucking rent and bills.
My boss suggested I hand her a one-way plane ticket to Pittsburgh on Dec. 31, to show I’m serious about her getting her shit together and going the fuck away from me. I’m not opposed to this idea.
Of course, it all comes down to the fact that the UEOEH is perfectly wiling to go anywhere I put her … as I’m paying for it, after all.
And that’s my problem. I don’t want to pay for it anymore.
Of course, my friends say that a paltry amount of $250 could probably rent a nice ratbag apartment in Pittsburgh. 🙂
I watch other people who only get motivated in dire situations. Pending homelessness? Yeah, time to get a job. Tired of Ramen noodles? Perhaps it’s time to work harder and get a promotion.
Most others are complacent their whole lives. I don’t know why I have this feeling of something stuck in my craw all the time — I always want to be better, I want more, I want change and I want it NOW.
Well, except when it comes to being fat. I like blaming that on my mother. 🙂 Hell, I blame everything ELSE on her!
I was just telling someone that every wish I make is for her to meet a man. Even on my OWN birthday cupcake, it was “Please oh please, God, let mom meet a man and marry him ASAP.”
I don’t even wish for myself, people. And I’m as horny and as cranky as it gets. If anyone needs a man, it’s ME!
Today she was stalking me as I brewed my first cup of coffee. (Grrr.) She asked if I slept in. Uh, it’s Saturday and it’s 7:30 a.m. I’m usually in the car by now. WTF do you think?
I ignored her but of course she kept talking. Getting hints ain’t her thing.
Basically she said she was just about to come in and wake me up when I got up. (And I would have hit her with the candy I found under my pillow, I swear.)
I said why on EARTH would you wake me up? (O HAI I go to bed late on weekends, Fool.)
She was afraid I’d be late for the plans I made today.
Now, we can all go, “Awwwwww!” and think, “Goddess really IS mean!” Or we can put it into context that, at age 36, I know how to set a FUCKING ALARM.
*blood-curdling scream*
And this is why I am nice to our employees. This is why I do not hop on a plane to Baltimore and KILL the people who don’t “get it” and make me nuts with their repeated mistakes. Because I am already going to hell for the evil, evil thoughts that pervade my entire being when That Woman simply speaks. I have to be nice to SOMEBODY, yes?
And if her friends love her so much, why don’t THEY adopt her for a while? Maybe I’d remember what might have once made her lovable and maybe recover some of that feeling again.
Or I may change my phone number and move. Whichever. 😉 At least I’d like to have the option!