the danish outpost
updated when time and inspiration allow. latest and greatest always in the blog.
this one goes to 11.

2001-06-07

feeling kinda how a girl feels

gah! bleargh! nastiness!

oh. my. god. can i just say? i am so over the fucking petty politics. i Don't. Want. To. Deal. With. Them. Anymore.

:deep breath: okay. peel your nails out of the wood, ungrit the teeth. deep soothing breaths, and try to explain.

there have been some politics recently, both personal and professional. i've tried to step back and deal with them only as necessary. really, i have. because otherwise i'd be up for Murder One. and i think i've done pretty well. no blood has been shed recently, other than the result of me biting the inside of my cheek while restraining an (in)appropriate comment.

but tonight has been the last straw. really and truly, it has.

i understand that we all come to discussions from different places, and have varying opinions. all well and good. open and frank discussion is a Good Thing. if we can share our dissenting opinions without personal slag, it's okay.

grrrr! augh! blech!

can i find any other way to express the complete disgust i'm feeling right now? hmmm. probably. but it would only be torture to my keyboard.

gah. :hrmph: oh yeah... i said i wouldn't torture the keyboard.

on the professional front: if you can't set aside the need to be babied and coddled, don't bother showing up for work. just don't. it's a waste of your time and mine. we'll only end up in a pissing contest, and i'm not wearing the hip waders these days.

seriously. if you can show up, do your work, share the credit for work well done, and shoulder the responsibility for errors, then i'm all happy to work with you. otherwise? get the fuck out. you may know more than me. in fact, i'm sure you do. but. that's not the point. i wasn't hired to be your babysitter. if that's what you want me to do, y'all can't afford my rates. *trust* me.

and on the personal front. oh, on the personal front.

you know what? justify your life all you want. do whatever it takes to face yourself in the mirror in the morning. but don't dump it on my doorstep. just don't. i'm not the person who can sign off on the middle school shit you're pulling these days. and even if i was, i wouldn't. you're better than that. that's what kills me. you know you're capable of better things than this.

if you feel the need to beat yourself up, do it. just don't do it in my presence, and don't ask for my approval.

the more you ask, the more you damage the chance of us regaining a friendship. that hurts. it really does. we had a great friendship, or so i thought. to watch you waste that is immensely painful.

and the rest of you? knock it off. please. i left sandbox politics behind in grade school. i would have thought you'd done the same.

:inhale: :exhale: :inhale: :exhale:

hoo boy. okay, that was a big tear. so sue me, i feel better for having said all that.

sad but true, i needed to get all that off my chest in order to face the weekend. it's a busy one. two jobs, a truck load of social engagements, and some serious commitments to take care of. having cleared the decks, it'll be easier to take care of the stuff that needs to happen. hey, if y'all need to unload, feel free to shoot me a note. happy to listen. really. :)

oh, mr. p? thanks for the voice mail. not necessary, but appreciated. thanks. 8)

yesterday :: tomorrow

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