Ok, now enter in a co-worker of mine who is probably a year or two my senior. I think her (it's a he) village failed her somewhere along the way. Instead of magnificent murals of awesome age-progression pictorials I see soggy, wet cardboard shoe box diaramas that have been dropped once or twice. The crayon coloring is shotty at best and always outside the lines. Shit, the poor thing used that thick, white kindergarten paste instead of Elmer's glue so the plastic furniture and scenery pieces are coming loose and falling off. Shambles. Not cute. Not cute. Not cute.
A separate co-worker summed it up perfectly: she's like Dorie from "Finding Nemo." No matter how many times you show or tell her how to do something she will simply not remember. (Or better yet, just decide that she doesn't want to do it the way that she's supposed to and creates her own process for the rest of us to shake our heads at.)
I want to burn her village down right now.
The ironic part is that she has worked in the shared front desk position the longest of any of us there. While other heads are rolling as management seems to be cleaning house--or The Inn--as the case may be, somehow her lil bobble-head remains untouched by the blade and it has boiled me to the point of having to vent through my journal about it.
Hah. I used "tableau." Talk about pulling useless vocabulary out of my ass from eons ago.
I like this riding on the bus time. It gives me my much needed alone time to collect my thoughts. In the span of time I've been writng, I can feel that the veins on the side of my temples have started to recess back to reflect a smooth dermal layer and not tiny speed bumps on the road from my hairline to my eyeballs. As I walked away from the front gate at work and entered the "heart" of West Hollywood, I called My-Ky-Guy and felt my whole head throbbing with each step. Now...at Santa Monica Blvd and Vermont, stopped in front of the Metro Rail station, I feel the idle vibration lulling my eye-lids shut.
Soon to dream. Soon to cuddle.
After typing all of this, I realize that my village did right by me somehow. I step back and realize I'm still in it. And dammit, that bitch is in my village too!
Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile
