This page will be devoted to perfection. Boss-man sat me down, and we began a much needed talk about our behavior towards each other. Now, I'm very aware of the fact that he treats me like absolute crap, and I can almost deal with it because he's paying me to, you know... change his life and all that. He, on the other hand, is not too happy with my apparent "constant stream of criticism", and displayed his issue through a half hour of endless chatter about the matter. Welcome to PMS land-- I forgot to keep my mouth shut this time, and let slip that perhaps I wouldn't have to correct things so much if he did sh*t right, the first time. And furthermore, I was finding it incredibly difficult to show him an ounce of respect by giving him the benefit of the doubt, because he never shows that he deserves that respect! If anything, his immature lack of class and general human decency cleanses him of all the duties that come with even a SEMBLANCE of respect. I may have continued on, perhaps mentioning that it was difficult for me to work so closely with a man who couldn't best me-- because if you can't best a woman, who the hell are you? Right? RIGHT?
Dear Christ, someone get me some chocolate and a shot of vodka.
I guess I'm the product of my life-- there was so much criticism growing up that I simply learned to be perfect. I don't make mistakes, I do everything right the first time, ESPECIALLY when it comes to work. I am beautiful and graceful, and completely un-blamable. I'm also miserable, lonely, and half-insane.
Maybe when this job is over, I can go on back to the lazier side of the country and calm down a bit-- climb a mountain barefoot or something of that sort. For now, I'm a strictly urbanized angel with a penchant for aromatic stir fry dishes and well polished marble bathrooms.