lassie

Worn down from illness, overtime, and a word processing staff that won't follow directions, I sent the e-mail today. You know: the one you send to your manager for distorting in the minutes your proposal to improve word processing staff procedures. You know: the one you cc the Director on because the Director missed the meeting. You know: the one three paragraphs too long. You know: the one whose immediate response is, "Will you come have a word with me in my office."

Here it comes, what always comes. I never fit into corporate settings. Or any settings, except maybe the dark cold originary cave settings where ore lies undisturbed.

I'm so fragile right now that I know I will turn red, become confused, and start actually tearing up when I have to sit and hear the bosslady say the stupid fake shit to me in the mornig. I had hoped to sleep well tonight, since I haven't in weeks. O that I could be the tall pale pillar of coldness antithesis to burning traces of coal, these diamonds in the rough, these smoke signals no one in earnest remarks.