Last Friday I reached THAT POINT at work. You know THAT POINT? Where you've absolutely had enough, where your character and dignity and ethics and pride and morality and some other shit that you have that hasn't been completely corrupted jump forward and demand JUSTICE, demand that YOU ARE BETTER THAN THIS, demand POSITIVE CHANGE FOR THE SELF AND THE SPIRIT???

Not that point.

I actually reached the other THAT POINT, the one where your coworkers finally roll their eyes and cover their ears and call you out on all your rabid shit talk. "You're 'done'?" they sniffed. French manicured finger quotes akimbo. "You've been 'done' for about a year."

Did you seriously just finger quote at me with an airbrushed decal of half a reindeer on your fingernail? OH MY GOD I AM SO. FUCKING. DONE.

So I did what any self-respecting woman with a mortgage, a car payment, a $40,000 student loan and a Discover card that's been maxed out since All Those Times I Paid My RENT With It In '99 would do; I downloaded a snippy letter of resignation from Microsoft, signed that sucker and strode into my boss's office.

Two hours later I sweatily emerged from the Lair, thankful that The Robot in all her Merciful Majesty had agreed to let me stay until the end of February. And also that I would now additionally be in charge of defrosting her port-a-fridge and combing out her hair.

So let it be known: before you sort of curl your plastic fingers at ME in the air, you better make goddamned sure you're ready for my kind of action. YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW HOW DONE I'M GETTING CLOSE TO ALMOST BEING. 
¶ posted by Erin on Monday, January 16, 2006