The Last Word

My co-worker just screwed up really bad (not the one I keep writing about that works in Georgia — one that works right here in my office with me).  She made a blatant lack-of-communication error and stormed out of my office because she was frustrated. Telling me that I made her feel stupid. I said, “You can feel how you choose, I am just trying to resolve this miscommunication.”

As she was storming out 30 seconds afterwards to have a cigarette — I mean like a bitch in a serious FIT!!! — she stopped at my doorway to say, “Thank you. I am an adult and I can choose to feel however I want.” Then she left out the front office door, slamming it behind her. (Fuck! It’s Friday and she chooses to be completely and utterly miserable? Tossing it about like razor blades and poison? Gee, thanks! I had a really superb night last night and I am not going to let your stupid fucking bitchiness ruin my “glow”. So, THERE!!!)

I work in on the small side of a large office. There is only 3 of us, but on the other side of the open doorway, there’s almost 20 people working in cubes. And today, our boss is training in a new agent at this same time so I am sure the new guy is totally impressed with her butt-hurt-teenage-girl antics.

Why do people feel they need to have the last word when they’re angry? Do they think that it will make things better?

Why do people feel the need to spread their hatred like peanut butter on toast?

I used to think I felt better when I said some mean shit to someone and then walked away without them being able to retort. But, in the end, it made me feel worse for being such a horse’s ass.

(By the way — it’s 45 minutes after she took that cigarette break and she’s seriously still stomping around. And I am not kidding about the stomping either. I feel bad for the people below us.)

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