Caterwauling

Man. Between hearing someone pass off my idea as their own in a meeting … and it got approval coming from their mouth … and getting an edited doc with that mistake made in it … and more, I really don’t know what else to say about today. 

There was a trait in someone I used to know. 

Not a good one. Trait or person. 

He’d ask how you were doing … what you’re doing this weekend … what you did last weekend ….

But he didn’t care. Or listen. He was just waiting for his turn to talk. 

And when I start to miss him, I realize his replacement does the same damn thing. 

Now if I keep my eyes closed he looks just like you

But he’ll never stay, they never do

Now if I keep my eyes closed he feels just like you

But you’ve been replaced

I’m face to face with someone new

— Halsey, “Eyes Closed”

Unfortunately the replacement will keep asking till you say something. 

And at least the original one did have interesting stories. That is certainly not the case anymore. 

I can’t believe the thing I miss is the original’s gift for making conversation when no one hates small talk more than I do. 

When will I ever learn?

Every damn day: 

My Spicer: I need your opinion.  

Me: I pick X. Here’s why. (Insert long list of experiences, and what we’ve tried that hasn’t worked.)

Spicey: We are going to do the complete opposite of what you picked. 

Me: Why?

Spicey: I promised Bannon. I was not tasked with knowing why. 

Me:  I was in your position before. And now I’m going to have to be the one to execute certain failure after you declare it so. Does this save money? Make 10% more? If so, happy to do it that way. If not, it costs man hours. And lots of them. Do you purposely pick the exact thing I advise against? 

Spicey: Takes 90-minute lunch.

If some folks aspired to mediocrity, they wouldn’t even graze their heads on that bar. 

I didn’t say I was the one who overheard it. 

I hope everyone realizes by now that I’m a big fat ball of goddamned sunshine. And that the gossipy. Snippy, negative see-you-next-Tuesday never stops running their mouth. 

I mean I’ve shut down their negativity with high-paid witnesses present. 

I permit a lot of things I never dreamed I’d let slide. But it’s so validating to spot projection when I endure it. 

I must fear no-talent assclowns. Because they are running my country and ruining my life.

When fucknut got elected, I was thinking about promotional ideas for my services that everyone has since gone and murdered. I noted to myself, “Your CEO is now your president.”

I didn’t mean my CEO. I just mean, the election was my worst nightmare in more than the obvious ways.

With that orange shitgibbon in charge, he conjures up memories of every leader (at any level) you ever rolled your eyes about. The human bag of douche got enough illiterate people’s votes to ruin your non-working life. Because you weren’t stressed out enough.

I need to start fearing yachts, handsome men, bank accounts with commas, and people who don’t murder successful services and shame excellent writers because they’re not as milquetoast as the spook everyone throws their panties at.

Fuck this day.

I HAD these kinds of people in my tribe. Mediocre men destroyed that. Why does God want me to lose great people and replace them with what I’ve got now?

I got quoted back to myself today. And not in a good way.

Someone told someone else that I allegedly said something in a conversation. Which, I did have things to say. But not what I heard back. And boy did it get around.

Granted, I don’t really filter myself well. So yeah, I can see where it’s plausible that I might have said something like I heard back.

But for fuck’s sake, if you are going to put my livelihood in jeopardy, please quote me accurately.

Now to figure out if it was the person who overheard, or the one who broadcast it through the lands, who got the words wrong. And wonder why glass houses don’t seem to deter anyone.

The one who fucking destroyed it all is shocked, SHOCKED, that it’s all in ruins.

As if having an asshole who wears a taped-up Commie-red tie splitting his time between my old neighborhood and my new one weren’t enough …

The person (using that phrase loosely) who makes Steve Bannon seem like the Sultan of Sunshine in comparison to said person (and I ain’t talkin’ about Trumpy in this graf) is also moving to my hood.

Seriously, universe. You keep making me long for the dumpster fire that was 2016.

Time to enter Witness Protection … again.

Or just burn down the entire state. Whichever.

I hear the company is hosting the goodbye party after the departure. So, the universe is turning as it should.