The internet is so much more enjoyable now. Thank you for going away.
You do realize that you are the only person in our relationship. He and I left a long time ago.
But hey. If he ever comes to his senses, tell him to call me. Worth a shot to see whether I’d be willing to leave mine.
Senses, that is. Not relationship.
Left behind everything and everyone I loved.
But sometimes you have to make decisions that break your heart to give your soul peace.
Fair trade.
No secrets. No shame.
Never were. Never will be.
Feel free to watch me shine.
Oh wait, I always am.
Just got an invite for a lunch date.
Mom remembered this fool standing me up for lunch two years ago.
I’d honestly forgotten. Explains why his number wasn’t in my phone and I had to ask who TF this was.
I know he needs a favor. Hard pass, G. Dead to me means dead.
Looking forward to forgetting again. This time, before he does.
No I didn’t lose weight. But my friend count is down by five. YEAH! Love it when the trash takes itself out. Now if those who blame Obama and Hillary for the orange asshole’s policies would realize that it’s spelled T-R-U-M-P, I might regain a little faith in humanity. Or, at least, in spell check.
I’m done debating and going 10 rounds on my latest Major Life Decision. But I have one last thing to say on the topic …
When we sold my company to another company, they interviewed each of us and came up with a shortlist of who would be hired. Out of 50 people eligible, they only took five.
I learned this week that there was actually a sixth name on every iteration of that list.
Mine.
I was wondering. I used to work there. My interviews went well. There was really no reason why they wouldn’t scoop me up. I knew which division I wanted to go to (back to D.C., if you can believe it) and there was really no reason why they didn’t make me a formal offer.
I figured it was because LVP was badmouthing me. But I got it on good authority that getting a good reference from that one might have been more harmful than a bad one.
Then it dawned on me that the other company’s rejection came at the same time I was invited to stay where I am.
Coincidence? Not a chance.
My boss had the power to set everyone’s start dates at the new gig. I’m sure he had the power to make sure I never got offered one at all.
Pretty tricky. I like it.
Look, I’ll never stop having a lot to say about all the decision-making I’ve felt the brunt of, this past year. But I am going to stop saying it, starting today. This is it.
Yesterday would have been my last day there. I consider Tuesday to be my start date. Which, technically, it is.
I wouldn’t say everything changes. But I’m officially a big boss now. And I have a whole lot of people looking toward me for inspiration. Not the least of which is the big boss himself.
There’s a rumor going around that I never had another opportunity — that this was all some sort of stunt. Whether it was on his part to sell me as a leader, or on my part to get power. No one knows. But they sure do like to talk.
My guess is the boss never believed I would walk. And maybe the others with an opinion are jealous. But as a fellow director said to me, thank God you stayed. You care. They figure only good can come from that.
Now I start my new career and life. I celebrated with a new iPhone for me and a new Samsung for Mom. And I’ll celebrate further by moving us away from the ignorant cunt upstairs. And, if I can hang around long enough, look out Paris — I’m coming for you.
I hope it will all be worth it. At the very least, I am finally at peace with it.
I should instead be posting one of my many photos of the Impeachment March to Mar-a-Lago. Because, tRump is still a piece of shit and the country is worse off than even I thought, one year ago today when I last marched.
But, alas, I have more hope now than I did then. For various reasons. And I sort of need this reminder that yeah, maybe all the cool kids go to the women’s marches. But there’s good stuff out in the rest of the world, too.
I just have to find it.
I should have worked this weekend. But last week would have looked better not only on fire, but that turd should also have been ablaze in tRumpy’s gold-plated bidet and tweeted all around the world.
THAT would have more accurately resembled the alternating frozen-and-flaming hellscape that refers to more than just our psychotic weather.
We got a bonus, of sorts. I never in my life looked at a gift before and thought, wow, my morale was higher BEFORE I got it. But it was still better than hearing LVP’s name (a whole week without it!), so thanks for that.
A colleague wrote to say the place will fall apart if they don’t keep me forever. I guess I forgot to deliver the news that I CAN stay as long as I want.
That’s the rub. They gave away my title — that I worked HARD to get — and gave it to a stinky nose-picker. One whose grand talent is barking seven paragraphs of orders at random roundups of people he decides to nominate via email.
And much as I try to transition work to this guy, he only ends up making it harder for me to finish the job.
And we’re launching new projects that fall into my-now-his domain. Everyone is just assigning them to me, knowing they will get done and get done RIGHT.
I mean, I love having me some work that I, in fact, LOVE working on. But I don’t know how to get this guy motivated and frankly I am READY for a new challenge.
I am not going to let this Eric Trump looking character keep me from my destiny. Whatever that destiny looks like.
And I am BEYOND ready to find out.
Man, folks be crawling out the woodwork here.
I had the most satisfying de-friending of my life. (Not even a tRump voter this time!) And not five fucking minutes later, another authority figure from my past sent me a friend request.
I mean, I de-friended THAT person at least twice. And I keep rejecting her overtures.
Both of them can have each other. They will use and abuse you and tell you you’re worthless and then not pay you not even what you’re worth, but what you agreed to settle for.
It’s like the universe cannot stand a void and seeks to fill it.
Well, that cavern is remaining wide open. And I am moving a third person to my post-Trump list for stalking me on behalf of the first one. Eff dat shit.
The post-Trump list is probation. It’s also a springboard into the “dead to me” files. That second bitch is pretty bad if I won’t even upgrade her ass on THAT one.
As for the LVP I started typing about today, they behaved exactly as deplorably as I predicted. I’m super-glad I stood up for myself and refused to be the enabler this time.
Hope the third person either wises up or bleeds them dry. Either way, really, is fine by me. I am the real winner in the scenario if I never have to hear someone’s name again for as long as I live unless it’s associated with “karma being as big a bitch as you are.”
“Gritting your teeth, you hold onto me
It’s never enough, I’m never complete
Tell me to prove, expect me to lose
I push it away, I’m trying to move
Hoping for more, and wishing for less
When I didn’t care was when I did best
I’m desperate to run, I’m desperate to leave
If I lose it all, at least I’ll be free.”— Broods, “Free”
When my bosses came to me with really, the worst idea ever, I said, “Over my dead body will I (insert what I was asked to do).”
For the girl who did everything asked of her, and then some, for the past six years (40 years, but who’s counting?), they were stunned.
I didn’t elaborate. But come on over to my desk (and everybody does because I’m hilarious), and I will HAPPILY fill you in.
We all had a good old time today when I did what I needed to do for a long time. Not what was asked of me. But what I should have done to prevent that even being an option in the first place.
I told the bosses about it. Like I’d said, over my dead body. Now that is no longer an option because there are literally no choices in the matter left. The one said, “OK” and we talked about that nitwit Trump’s nitwit “shithole” comment instead.
I mean, really, it’s their problem. It always was. I’m sorry I can’t help. And I’m grateful that I don’t have to explain why #timesup on this particular “thing.”
“I have lived my life so perfectly
Kept to all my lines so carefully
I’d lose everything so I can sing
Hallelujah, I’m free
I’m free, I’m free
I’m free, I’m free, I’m free
Hallelujah, I’m free.”
I asked my friend if I could be fired for this. She said who knows. But wouldn’t it be worth it to never, ever have to even think about it ever again?
It’s a good day to be me.
Dude.
Seriously.
Holla’ing at MY friend, to bitch about ME and claim that I somehow am singlehandedly keeping you from relaunching the business you flashed your hairy butt crack at …
And somehow claiming it’s ALL MY FAULT …
Seriously.
Dude.
Not that any of us believe it will work this time. You burned everyone who made it work. No one likes you.
But I love that you give me all this power.
Especially when I spent years giving mine up to you.
You are the REASON for the #metoo movement.
I have zero desire to hear of you whining that I somehow am hurting you. No need to suddenly give me credit for the first time. But hey, thanks.
First of all, I LOVE me some Lisa Vanderpump — the one on “Real Housewives of Beverly Hills” and “Vanderpump Rules.”
I am NOT the slightest bit enamored with MY “Lisa VanderPump” — LVP. To say the least. The very least.
Not overly certain how someone who has maybe worked five full days in their career …
Who is brilliant at bullshitting their way into massive salaries, big titles, bigger bonuses and falsely selling their superiors on their so-called indispensability …
Who never saw fit to promote me despite calling me by a higher title …
Who wrote horrible reviews for me that painted me as aspiring to mediocrity on a good day …
Who publicly embarrassed me on group calls that said person couldn’t even spell correctly on the meeting reminders they put on our calendars …
(Oh and no one else got that treatment — one other person got private reamings and the rest got left alone. And for both of us, 99% of those reamings were for not working on projects said absentee person never TOLD us about) …
Who didn’t even say thank you for the $60 birthday cake or the $50 birthday booze and didn’t even acknowledge me with a happy birthday that year …
And who — among other ridiculous things — got everyone ELSE fired after attracting a million-dollar lawsuit against the company and its owner …
Is now entitled to the charred remains of the dream this person sold to us in a (successful) effort to get us all to work around the clock to make that person “famous.”
And the fact that this person is back to BARKING UP OUR ASSES to jump to serve said person is like a battered wife being told she has to give her abuser the dog, too.
I have been working on a reply in my mind. But I am enjoying the silence an awful lot. I know LVP is motherfucking me in their mind.
I mean, it’s not like LVP could speak to me with a modicum of respect or the awe I deserved for being one of the wizards behind the curtain that made the puppet dance.
That hurt me in a big way. The not having my name on anything. I hear my name was never credited for anything either. So I had to work very hard to show folks I am capable and was working my ass off all along.
They see that now. And they don’t know the depth of my rage. But they know that for me to refuse to comply with a command from LVP, I have reasons.
They all finally figured out that everything was smoke and mirrors. And my guess is this no-strings-attached “gift” my friend and I are to provide to LVP is less an OB tampon and more like a compact cooter plug. One where the string is hidden inside the smaller pouch.
(Compact cooter plug. I may have to save that for a future nickname …)
In any event, I know LVP comes here looking for answers. And I’ll put it right here …
I jumped for you on every occasion. I lost out on nights and weekends and time with my mom and friends. I was kind to you at all times and listened to your stupid stories about your arrests and all the money you spent on things I’d never be able to afford because you said I was too “expensive” so I clearly was never going to get a raise. I stopped talking to my editors who actually loved me, just so you could stop needling me and egging me on, claiming “you knew” I was talking to them when I wasn’t. You’re a liar and a miserable person.
Oh and thanks for those casual bullshit comments made to (I guess former) future potential employers. But funny about people who repeat things back to me — they have a LOT more to say than what they heard.
Sorry karma’s teeth are sharp. I really do want you to be happy. I just wish this had all made you nicer instead of making me harder.