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ROGUE OF RAGE
Crazy lady boss took me into the bathroom today to fix my hair for me and demonstrate (on herself) her makeup routine, saying that it is “wicked” that I don’t do anything to make myself look better.
How do I tell her that,
1. I don’t have the money?
2. I don’t have the time?
3. I don’t have the /energy/?
4. Anytime anyone has ever attempted to put makeup on me, they step back proudly, and then they get a good look at my face and they say, “/Oh/,” trying to mask their horrified expression? That makeup only serves to emphasize how deformed and lopsided my face is, that even when I /warn/ people of that, they insist, “Oh no, not me, you’ve got to let me try,” and then they do the exact same thing (that little “oh”), and every single time it just crushes me?
Fine, I’ll try with my hair, but makeup? That’s happened too many times and I can’t take it.
I’m sitting in a coffee shop, waiting for my mechanic to get off lunch. It’s noisy and I’m drinking a mocha, and I want nothing more than to just flop over on this couch and go to sleep. :/
I may need to ask them to add a shot of espresso…
Here’s the thing about me: I am a polite and kind person, but you do not get my /respect/ until you /prove/ to me that you deserve it.
I don’t give a damn what titles you’ve earned or what power you have - or /think/ you have - over me.
I /do not give a damn/ if you’re my /boss/ and I need the goddamned money.
If you do not respect me, I do not respect you. If you treat me like shit, I WILL respond in kind. And /fuck you/ for /daring/ to think that I shouldn’t have that right.
I am an intelligent goddamned human being and my life does not and /never will/ revolve around someone who does not treat me as such.
In other news, I just submitted a resume for a nearby emergency vet, and there’s a distinct possibility I’ll be quitting the office job here shortly.
*attempts not to scream in anger*
Looks like it’s time to go job hunting again.
(It’s the sort of day where I want to beat my head against a wall.)
I’ve spent so much time plotting my “library” that I have no idea how to arrange my living room, and the only piece of furniture I have for my bedroom is the bed itself. Let alone decorations. Oops.
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