Holy moo!

My former boss--sigh--recently found some growth in her ovaries.

Yes, we ought to pray for her. After all, the woman meant something to me once. She was my former best friends mom, she fed me dinner, and on some occassions was nice to be. Even during those time when she was putting the pressure on me, she claimed she was being nice to me. That's gotta be half a point.

I was going to give her a novena for whoever is the patron for fertility or hsyterectomy's, since that's how we Roman Catholics are. We have saints for everything and we ask them to help us reach God. I thought I should make that clear. Heaven forbid I start a "you pray on statues" debate.

So here I am, feeling all sorry and even guilty for something that I had no control over, when her puppy dog assistant walks up to me and asks me when I am using up all my leave.

I have five days left and a gazillion more things to do. Where the fuck was all this workload last November, where there was a drought and everybody was slipping into a coma.

I informed her that I was only going to use three of the five days since--as evidence by the mountain of paperwork in my cubilce--I have a lot to do. And no, I wasn't going to take any of their money, I just wanted to finish my assignments so that I can part in good faith with my new--and cooler--boss, Ms. Becky.

So puppy dog yaps back and she converses with Big Mama. She yaps back to me and tells me "i'm sorry, you can't take three days off for the last week of March, you're contract only says your up to March 30."

I blink and I say "sure, fine. whatever. what the fuck is another day to not get paid, it's just twelve dollars anyway."

And it really is fine with me. I tend to round off my paychecks the lower number, even if it is a significant amount, so losing a days pay isn't going to hurt my budget.

...

I have bionic ears.

I have sensitive hearing and eyesight. My friends used to tease me for having night vision and being able to hear stuff from about 30 feet away, even with outside traffic blaring and the airconditioning humming in my ears.

So it wasn't a hardship to hear the former boss--good grief--who WROTE the ending date in my contract go "Oh. March ends on the 31st? Gee, I didn't know that. Oh. Oh well. Tell her she only stays until the 30th, since that's what's written."

Hell holy crap.

Bend over, hold ankles, flare your ass cheeks and set up a sign saying "put your dick here", because you are so about to get FUCKED over.

Jeebus, is that woman evil or what?

What she did seems is so incomprehensible that it's bordering on entertaining. A (masochistic) part of me somehow can't wait for the next fire of abuse just to see what else she's capable of doing, since you can't possibly stop at this.

I'm just thinking "Wow. You really are making this whole forgiveness-humilty thing difficult, if you're doing this."

I feel like setting up pinatas and giving away cocktails. I feel like i've been spun so hard around the anger loop that i'm super happy now. It's f-ing un-bel-iv-able.