Skull Crucible

I'm actually more concerned now than I was when I heard Mike had forsaken law school and was working as a patrolman in Pritchard, AL; Pritchard is only rough--this is hell. When even the police spokesman (Sgt. Paul Accardo) is committing suicide (a/k/a, plathing the bejeezus out of one’s self), you have to believe that there are problems:

Thin Blue Line Stretched Taut

This is one of those times that I really wish I could fast-forward to like, the day before Halloween, or something. Some things would be back to normal, I'd know where my brother was going, or he'd already be there--wherever that may be; Mike would probably at least have air-conditioning and be somewhat safer, or even be Elsewhere, with his wife; Son-Friend would have either been awarded Disability, or I would have beaten him to death and hidden the body craftily. And so on. Plus, I like Halloween.

Ok, ok; I’m aware that was flippant. It’s ummm…artistic licence; I’m deviating slightly from civillty in order to achieve a desired effect.

Oh, ok, *fine*--I’ve never been voluntarily civil a day in my life, and I absolutely relish being abrasive when I can get away with it, usually. Except for today, but that’s a wholly different story that’s on its way; apparently, I’m “unclear and hard to understand”. There’ll be more on this event later, if I don’t become completely and enthralledly enrapt by my escapist trivia game in a pathetic attempt to forestall plathing the bejeezus out of me ‘cos I just can’t take it anymore.

Yes, I’m only venting, and no, I’m not trying to make light of anything that has occurred with anyone else. This is the only place that I can waste time focussing on myself and not feel horribly guilty, and today is damn close to a banner day for that. I am so stressed out that my neck and jaw actually hurt from being clenched for so long (not that I had meant to do that; I just noticed that they hurt, and then realised that I’ve been holding them clenched), enough that it is painful to move my neck and my throat hurts, and I’ve got a lovely drilling headache. My *everything* is pulled taut. I know; whine, whine, whine. No, I don’t want any cheese.

Ok, so—on the Le Event. I had a problem at Eviljob today; there was a fight. Not anywhere near me or what I do; I didn’t know about it until I was stupid enough to leave the safety of my cube-the-size-of-a-bedroom (which I have to myself—mostly—most every Sunday) and go hunting for a lime or lemon Diet Coke. Damn the son of a bitch who can’t just stock one machine with one type, always, all the time. You—I blame *you*. So I became involuntarily involved, because I was convenient; I went one floor up, and over to the other side of the facility hunting Diet freaking Coke.

So I went hunting, and get summoned by a matchstick-thin girl who tells me that I have to come “back over there”, and quickly, so I do. To make a long story short, two gentlemen (I’m being sarcastic) are arguing, with about six other people gawking---errr…standing around watching the fireworks; it apparently had started over something work-related, and escalated into some personally-based dispute, and as I’m walk-running up they are starting to get into the leaning forward and yelling shit, from which pushing, then hitting, will imminently follow—you can just tell. So as we’re walking over, I tell Miss Size Zero±ib to go get Larry, the Heavyset Guard. Why she didn’t do that in the first place, I have no idea; I’ll be damned if I’m taking a poorly-aimed uppercut to the jaw just to keep someone from getting written up or terminated.

Well, ok; we don’t actually have a Larry the Heavyset Guard, but work with me here.

My brain can withstand only so much swimming in cerebrospinal fluid I think, because whilst mentally bedraggled from Diet Coke Deficiency, I decide the smartest course of action will be to insert myself between them, a manoeuvre which immediately has absolutely no effect whatsoever. I’m 5’ 10”, but one of them is about my height, and the other is a little taller, and they pay me no mind at all, continuing to yell at each other around me, and across the top of my head. I advise both of them to back off and sit down; eventually one of them does, leaving the taller one yelling at the shorter one (who had retreated), trying to incite him to get back over there and…I dunno—pop him in the mouth? So I, in a moment of Pure Brilliance, turn to the taller one, and tell him to go sit down whilst he can. So he starts yelling at me--at *me* he yells. Then another manager and security wander in, and I immediately beat a path the hell out of there…and spend the next hour writing up the taller guy (it’s difficult to be anonymous when one’s name is dangling from one’s lanyard) for calling me a couple of choice names. As if any name someone called me mattered. Heh. And then just before I leave I get an email from a SHIT (that’s Supervisor Helper In Training…ok; it’s an acronym I’ve just made up, but my point is that it’s from no one who has any business emailing *me*--they should wait and run it past their supervisor or manager and see what to do before making with the challenging emails to *me*) telling me that the tall gentleman, who is now in Deep Shit, is claiming that I was “unclear” and “hard to understand” when I was telling him to sit the fuck down and shut up, and that’s now his defence and excuse for why he was an asshole. Ummm…no. In addition to the fact that I have overstepped my authority (SHIT’s words, although less well-chosen) and should not be pestering Department Y’s workers, anyway. Oh, how fucking dare you?

So I lost it and returned to him a blistering email that was cc’d to his manager explaining that I could bring sexual harassment charges up against this imbecile (some of the things he said were way out-of-bounds), that I have the right to walk anywhere in the building I wish (ummm…that’s why *my* ID will scan into *anywhere* in this facility as well as two others, and yours will get you into Dep’t Y and the cafeteria, buttmunch), AND if it’s such an intrusion, why weren’t you there to prevent your monkeys from pummelling the crap out of each other? And I’m so deeply sorry for the distress it must have caused you Mr SHIT, particularly when I know that you don’t know how to handle such a situation. Perhaps I should have stayed to help you learn how to fix something like this and send someone home for the day.

God, I’m such a nasty bitch.

I’ve never mentioned the SHITs, I don’t think. We have some real shits, but no SHITs in our department. I don’t hate all of them; some of them are ok, but many are just annoying. They have no real power, their average tenure is around 3 years, and they’re supposed to be “helpers”, but they overstep their bounds more than I care to pay attention to, because if I did, I’d go batshit. What they’ll end up doing is either quitting or becoming a supervisor and eventually a manager. In theory. Many quit, ‘cos it’s not as easy to move up that way as they think. It’s a ridiculous internshippish program that was begun about four years or so ago. So they get into these positions, and just annoy people randomly. On weekends (but especially Sundays) there are SHITs all over, ‘cos the actual management wants the damn weekends off, duh. And from that perspective, I’ve always wondered how stupid you have to be to buy into that, because all of a sudden you’re yanked out of your Monday-Friday, 9-5 schedule and end up working weekends, holidays, and all the times that actual supervisors and managers don’t want to work.

Butsoanyway.

And if my little self-indulgence (no, I have no illusion that my nastygram was anything but self-indulgent) backfires, who cares? From what I can figure, I may be headed out the door, anyway. So I have nothing to lose. Pfft. And no matter what, my kitties still love me.

Speaking of which, Squoosh had his second round of vaccinations, and his second FeLV/AIDS test; he did fine with the shots, and he’s negative—no diseases. Yay, Squooshable! And that’s the only good thing that has happened to me all week. And really, Squooshable is damn close to the only good thing that has happened to me all year. We’ll see what the rest of the year holds, I guess. It can’t get any worse—or if it can, I don’t want to be here for it. This is just…overwhelming, stupid, crazygonuts, increasingly soulless times….and I’m finding it annoying.

Of course from this—all of this—I, this country, and everyone will emerge just that much better, won’t we? Because, of course, we know what priceless treasures emerge from these skull crucibles, after all.