I Pity the Fool That Makes Me Look the Fool

The other day I had a no good, horrible, very bad day.

Except my hair looked better

 

It didn’t start off well. I went to bed late (reading Beautiful Creatures right now). I woke up late for the gym. I left the gym late, took too long to get ready for work, and was late there too. So, of course it’s the day where people keep asking me if I’m okay.

But it wasn’t until after lunch that it went from just having a pissy face to being truly off. Why?

Because my so-called peers can’t handle their ish.

There’s nothing like trying to do a job that someone else used to handle, and them not giving the information you need to complete it. Especially if someone like dimensionthe5th is about to test her students online and nothing works and she looks like a dummy because the previous a hole of the 9th power that usually handles the test only told me step 1.

There are many more steps than step 1 -_-

I hate looking stupid, not organized, or just plain incompetent in front of my students. But that’s what happened. And knowing my super paranoid self, they probably didn’t notice and just assumed this was the way things went. OR, at the end of the class they’re going to give lots of comments in the end of course feedback saying that dimensionthe5th is a hot mess. And I might commit a felony against another teacher.

I am not OCD. You should see what my car gets up to, junkwise. But I am very much a by-the-book person when it comes to a job I must complete. And yes, it must be step by step by daggone step. I’m talking about, if you are teaching someone how to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, you better first list all ingredients, including plate. And the you’d better start with “Take 2 slices of bread and lay them on plate.” Yes I am that anal.

And the other day all I had was Step Frackin 1.

Because having complete directions is so important to me, I go one track mind and cannot breathe, cannot function until I fix what I see as a problem. My whole afternoon was lost, while I worked on writing out instructions and trying to breathe deep and let murderous thoughts go. I could breathe a sigh of relief by the end of the work day, but the anger is still there. Because it’s not the first time it’s happened. With the same crappy person.

But I can’t kill him. So, whenever it comes into my mind again, I just have to send my evil brain waves towards him. I hope he gets gout in his crotch or something. Karma.

You think that’s too harsh? Frack you too. Grotch be upon you also. Grrrr, argh.

 

 

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