Tag Archives: Fights

33 Contracts & Active K.O.ing

22 Jan

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Spent the morning busily paperworking…which is an excellent thing to keep your brain occupied…not as free to go gallivanting across the countryside looking for more things to worry about.

…A ream of paper, and 33 contracts later, (after two Corporate Reports, and booking calls, and schedule updates, and reminders sent out), I am ready to face the world again for about ten or fifteen minutes before launching into the next thing.

So here we are: at posting time.

First thing that immediately grabs my attention is that I still have a residual life-hangover left over from yesterday. Which frankly surprises me.  This is different from an “actual” hangover only in the way that your entire body aches and you have to firmly fight the sensation to burst into tears all of a sudden…though you managed to never once have even the slightest inclination to yesterday, while in the midst of all the shit-storm.

…Which I suppose means I “won” somehow.

I dunno.

But either way, I feel the hits those punches made. All over m’damn body, today.

Leaning back in my swivel chair, hands rubbing at the rock mountains that are my neck and shoulders, I can’t help but think how amazing it is…the amount of physical exhaustion, that ’emotional havoc’ can be on a body.

Intense.

And “tense.”

…It ain’t over yet. It’s only begun.  But it isn’t my fault, nor am I one of the starring players involved.  That means that, even in the thick of it, I can still sorta retreat a bit. 

As Marty says, “only two more sleeps” till we all getta meet up and play again…taking the prime opportunity to air and redirect some of this life-shit into a more positive, creative outlet.

…Meanwhile…I’m regretting all those days in childhood where nap times were cavalierly thrown about, without the realization of how awesome they were, and how much I would one day wish for almost nothing more in my whole life than four quiet hours with my head on a pillow by 1:30 p.m..

Kids…

…What do they know?

A little over two hours left to go.

Harriet will be done by four tonight…I made sure of it.

…Part of yesterday’s grand eventness was bringing down the law on the Manager of the shop where she currently resides…mid-week THREE of her stay, when she was promised to be done two weeks ago. As I’d been too busy opening and running shows here and there since, Ma had been the only mode of contact he’d had in that time…until yesterday.

…He outweighed me by two bodies, and looked like something out of a prison movie with all those tats, and a monster Harley Biker beard, so I could see he was rather surprised at my stance and the words immediately coming out of my face toward him, the second he walked in the door.

Me: “You Joe?”

Joe: “Yeah.”

Me: “That’s my PT. Cruiser on the block right there.”

Joe: “Okay.”

Me: “You have $3000 of my money. It was supposed to be done two weeks ago. Both cars in the family are sitting here in your shop, with their guts out, and we are on our second contract for another rental cuz you promised twice that the jobs would be done. I’ll be here after work tomorrow at 4 p.m. My car will be fixed, off that block, and with an extended Warranty — not some two-month nonsense like the last time you DIDN’T fix it — for my trouble.”

Joe: “For parts or–”

Me: “–Top-to-toe, Joe. That means it hiccups in the cold or shutters at a stoplight and YOU fix it. Free. Got it. I’m done now. Have it ready by tomorrow. That’s all.”

…I was already halfway through my day-of-shit by that point, so there was very little in the way of womanly grace remaining by that point. And he could see that, and wisely kept his damn mouth shut.

…So much could not be said for all the assholes I had to deal with yesterday…but I suppose when you are put into multiple fight scenarios — like those good ol’ Mortal Kombat days — you can’t expect to combo-K.O. it out every damn time. Pert near did though. And I never once lost my cool while doing it. Which is so much more aggravating in an opponent, I find.

I shall not be dissuaded.

…Yesterday was apparently the one where you pay five times over the price for a “vacation day.”

…Where by the half-way point, you realize you should have just sucked it up, gone into work, and dealt with the exhaustion and incessant phone rings and paperwork mess.

But you didn’t.

…And nothing comes for “free.”

…Silly me and my assumptions.

~D

The Episode Where She Leaves Him

30 Jun

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You know how married people fight? 

…I mean the “epic” fighters…the real vocal-chord-shredding type.  I mean, like the Taylor and Burton kind of epicness?  Well, that has become the basic “norm” in the office in the past two months. 

…Boss sails in and dumps a bunch of shit on the two of us running the place, then books it to the nearest Happy Hour.  Even finding some that begin as early as 9:30 a.m. (Or so we are told.)  Basically, he has the manners of a dog…walks right up to your lawn, takes a GIANT dump on the clean carpet of green, and promptly leaves it for you to step in, then pick up, later.

…Also, he’s been yelling a lot. About everything.

“WHY DIDN’T YOU KNOW I NEEDED THIS WITHOUT TELLING YOU?! CAN YOU NOT READ MY MIND?!  WHERE IS THAT PAPER I HAD IN MY HAND TWO DAYS AGO WITH THE THINGY ON IT?!  WHERE IS THE TRUCK OF STOCK I FORGOT TO ORDER?! DOES NO ONE UNDERSTAND MY CHICKEN SCRATCH WRITING?! YOU SHOULD HAVE KNOWN THAT WAS AN AUTOCORRECT AND WRONG! WHO STOLE MY STAPLER?!  WHY IS IT RAINING AGAIN?!  WHAT THE HELL IS YOUR PROBLEM WITH ME ALL OF A SUDDEN?! …I’M A VERY CHARMING INDIVIDUAL!! ASK ANYONE?!”

…Naturally, I yell back.

“WHY DO YOU ALWAYS DUMP SHIT AND JUST LEAVE?! HOW DOES FACEBOOKING FOR NINE HOURS CONSTITUTE ‘WORKING?!’  IF YOU DON’T ORDER THE STOCK, WE HAVE NOTHING TO SELL!  WHY AM I SPENDING THREE HOURS GETTING YOUR BONUS FOR YOU WHILE YOU DRINK JOHNNY WALKER ON ICE, DOWN THE STREET?  STOP CONTACTING ME AFTER HOURS! WHY ARE YOU BEING SUCH A GIANT DOUCHBAG?!”

We have an odd mechanic of a relationship, I know.

…Over the five years working with him, I have become so indispensable that I’ve been told to my face, even if I (say for giggles), decided to burn the place to the ground tomorrowhe would take the heat for it.  Because he knows very little (if anything) of what I actually do in a day.  All he knows is: it gets done.  All of the “it.”  The arrangement we have , goes something like: He never changes his ways, and after I reach a point where I cannot take it ANYMORE, I blow up at him, royally.  He takes it.  He leaves to find a bar.  I sit and keep doing paperwork. 

It’s not perfect, I grant you.  But it is our “system.”

…But the “system” has been cooking with extra steam since our last job contract came through, and now there is little, if any, reprise, ‘tween one fight and the next.  Our office marriage has become the most idyllic poster child for “divorce” that you have ever seen.  We just grip each other’s throats  and tear, on a nearly daily basis.

…Which is one of many reasons that I am now looking for a new place of employment.

…But, WHY the extra-oomph of hell at the office all of a sudden?

Among many reasons, a new one popped up, mid-yell over the phone yesterday.

***

He: …I MEAN, JUST MAKE IT FREAKING HAPPEN!  WHAT IS YOUR DAMN PROBLEM?!

Me: YOU!! YOU ARE MY DAMN PROBLEM!  I’M ALREADY ON MY FIFTH REPORT THAT YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO BE DOING RIGHT NOW.  I’VE ALREADY DROPPED EVERYTHING I’VE BEEN DOING TODAY TWICE TO GET THIS CRAP DONE.  PLUS, I WAS ON VACATION LAST WEEK, AND AM TRYING TO FIX ALL THE SHIT YOU SCREWED UP!

He: HEY, AT LEAST I TRIED!!

Me: THIS ISN’T GRAMMAR SCHOOL!  YOU DON’T GET POINTS FOR NOT KNOWING HOW TO DO YOUR JOB FIVE-YEARS-IN, BUT FINALLY DECIDING TO GIVE IT A “GO” ON A THURSDAY AT 3:35 PM!

He: WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM?!  WHAT IS YOUR DEAL?! WHY CAN’T YOU JUST DO WHAT I’M ASKING YOU?!

Me: I AM!! OR HAVE YOU FORGOTTEN THE OTHER TWELVE THINGS YOU DUMPED ON ME ALREADY TODAY?

***

…Etc.

It has become the kind of volatile atmosphere that breeds heartburn and migraine headaches (Me). And flagrant morning-alcoholism (He).  And we don’t even have to be in the same building to achieve it. But even though the stress and contracts and numbers have been a HUGE contributing reason as to why we have been pushed to the kind of stress we currently boil in, all day every day…it has gotten considerably worse.

At first, I thought I was rubbing off on him. 

When I’m good n’ pissed, I can be quite a bitch.  It’s true.  I kinda own it.  But he was never a cusser in the average day-to-day…and he yelled very little.  Now, he’s like a hydrogen bomb.  Which means, naturally, so am I.  So there we go, day in, day out, exploding like beach hits at Normandy…

***

He: …WELL, NOW I WANT YOU TO DO THIS ‘OTHER’ OTHER THING. SO DROP WHAT YOU’RE DOING AND MAKE IT HAPPEN!

Me: LOOK, I’M ALREADY DOING THIS REPORT THAT I HAVE TO SEND TO YOU BY FOUR…SO YOU CAN WRITE YOUR NAME ON IT LIKE A HIGH SCHOOLER, AND TURN IT INTO THE TEACHER.  I DON’T HAVE TIME TO DO BOTH!

He:  SO WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO NOW THEN, HUH?!  I NEED THIS THING!

Me: THEN I SUGGEST YOU PAY THE BAR TAB , GO FIND A PLACE WITH WIRELESS, AND DO IT YOURSELF! JUST THIS ONCE.  YOU’LL SURVIVE. I PROMISE YOU.

He: LOOK, I CAN’T HANDLE THIS!  I CAN’T HANDLE THIS! WHY DON’T YOU JUST DO WHAT I’M TELLING YOU?!

Me: I  AM!!!!!  I DON’T JUST SHIT REPORT ANALYSIS!  IT REQUIRES FIGURING OUT.  WHICH IS ACTUALLY YOUR JOB.  THIS IS MY FIFTH ONE I’VE DONE FOR YOU TODAY!  I’M ONE PERSON!!! ONE PERSON!

He: YEAH, WELL?!  WE ALL HAVE “PROBLEMS,” DON’T WE?!  I “NEED” THIS THING AND “DON’T HAVE IT.”  YOU HAVE THINGS I DON’T NEED, BUT WON’T GIVE ‘EM TO ME…!

Me: WHAT?! YOU’RE NOT EVEN MAKING SENSE NOW!

He: — YEAH, WE AAAAALLLLL HAVE “PROBLEMS,” !  EXCEPT SOME PEOPLE.  THEY HAVE EVEN BIGGER ONES…!!!

Me: –WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT…??!!

He: — OH GEE, YOU HAVE TOO MANY REPORTS TO DO…OH GEE, I’M BEING AN ASSHOLE TO YOU…WELL, AT LEAST YOUR WIFE DIDN’T JUST LEAVE YOU!

Me: — I DON’T HAVE A WIFE!  

He: — YEAH WELL, I JUST FOUND OUT: SHE DOES

(Beat of total silence.)

He: THAT’S RIGHT!! SHE LEFT ME!  FOR A WOMAN!  AND DON’T GO TELLING ANYONE! CUZ I DIDN’T MEAN TO SAY IT OUT LOUD!  AND NOW IT ACTUALLY FEELS EVEN WORSE!! SO SHUT UP ABOUT IT! AND WHEN THE HELL WILL THAT OTHER REPORT GET DONE, ANYWAY?!?!?

(The line falls to death on both ends.)

Me: I’m starting it now.

He: WELL, ALRIGHT THEN!

***

It’s probably the only fight in History that I have ever “thrown.”  Willingly. On purpose.  And immediately.  I figured, just this once, maybe it wasn’t essential that I “win.”

I feel it was the right choice. 

…Course, ask me again on Monday and it’ll prob’ly be an entirely different story.

~D

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