Today I was working with that hyprocritic holy-roller I mentioned a few days ago.
"You really didn't understand me," said she and launched into the same song and dance.
And I lost it. Yes, I screamed at her, in a sound-proof booth, during the coffee break with enough ambient noise that even though the door to the booth was open, my scene probably went unnoticed.
The best and the worse part was seeing her cringe and hold her hands over her ears. "Please don't scream," she pleaded and I continued to do so. I was screaming for myself and for all my colleagues who can't stand working with her. I was screaming in frustration because I know it won't change a thing in her weird and nasty behaviour and because there is unfortunately no way that I can avoid working with her. No way whatsoever.
There are probably lots of karmic reasons why I did the wrong thing, but honestly, I had had it up to here.
This reaction was probably not good for my health and certainly not good for my blood pressure. I regret having been violent towards myself, but that's the full extent of my regret.
Congress: Ignore Trump. Just Pass Something.
23 hours ago