As the stomach churns...
Mar. 16th, 2004 05:55 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lavandarlizard2All the way home from work - which took an hour and seventeen minutes, what with getting gas (price is *down* to $2.079) and stopping at the grocery - I debated whether or not to do this. It kinda comes under the heading of 'most likely should be kept personal' but I'm a little afraid its going to fester if I don't deal with it.
Important fact to know up-front: I have PTSD, courtesy of the Husband From Hell.
Now, on with our story- um... rant.
One of the supervisors at work got into it today with the production manager. They decided to take it to their boss, the new tech director. By an uncomfortable chance, tech guy is still crouching on the lily pad next to mine, since the out-going TD isn't quite gone yet.
Thunder of cloven hooves up the back stairs from the warehouse; door flung open with enough force to make the pneumatic closer squeal; rumbling snarls down the corridor behind me, then everything stops at the cube next to mine. They immediately launch into their 'he said-he said' dance, getting louder with each charge and counter-charge.
TD - who by the way is a complete and utter wuss - goes for conciliatory noises, while the two pissing dogs just get louder and louder.
At the first slam of the door, I about jumped out of my chair. By the time I realised they were crowding my corridor (hah! some corridor; stacked with boxes that would give the fire marshall indigestion) they had *crowded* my corridor, and I was stuck in my cube. I immediately began hyperventilating, but quietly; didn't want them to notice and turn on me.
At five minutes, I gave serious thought to climbing over the partition and hiding under the fax machine. The production manager had reached the point of howling that he was a *manager* goddammit, and the supervisor had better respect him! He has *power*!
Still nothing helpful from the TD. He's just making 'now-now' noises.
Just at the point where I'm about to either chew my way through the partition or scream, I hear the Voice of God, the VP who runs the facility.
All he said was, "Do I need to come back there?"
Dead silence.
Suddenly, TD manages to get his balls strapped on, and he's herding the combatants down the corridor, out the door and halfway down the back stairs.
And I realise that I'm about a heartbeat away from tears. I could have kissed the VP, which would have been *really* embarrassing.
Anyway, it's been over three hours since that happened, and I'm still feeling that adrenalin flutter under my ribs. Not to mention the utter disgust with myself at having let it get to me. It's been seven years, dammit; I oughta be over it by now!
I just hate that he can still screw with my head, from a distance.
Won't be sleeping much tonight; guess that means more writing will get done. You may consider this a good thing...
Shit, I wish I could drink.
*sigh*
Important fact to know up-front: I have PTSD, courtesy of the Husband From Hell.
Now, on with our story- um... rant.
One of the supervisors at work got into it today with the production manager. They decided to take it to their boss, the new tech director. By an uncomfortable chance, tech guy is still crouching on the lily pad next to mine, since the out-going TD isn't quite gone yet.
Thunder of cloven hooves up the back stairs from the warehouse; door flung open with enough force to make the pneumatic closer squeal; rumbling snarls down the corridor behind me, then everything stops at the cube next to mine. They immediately launch into their 'he said-he said' dance, getting louder with each charge and counter-charge.
TD - who by the way is a complete and utter wuss - goes for conciliatory noises, while the two pissing dogs just get louder and louder.
At the first slam of the door, I about jumped out of my chair. By the time I realised they were crowding my corridor (hah! some corridor; stacked with boxes that would give the fire marshall indigestion) they had *crowded* my corridor, and I was stuck in my cube. I immediately began hyperventilating, but quietly; didn't want them to notice and turn on me.
At five minutes, I gave serious thought to climbing over the partition and hiding under the fax machine. The production manager had reached the point of howling that he was a *manager* goddammit, and the supervisor had better respect him! He has *power*!
Still nothing helpful from the TD. He's just making 'now-now' noises.
Just at the point where I'm about to either chew my way through the partition or scream, I hear the Voice of God, the VP who runs the facility.
All he said was, "Do I need to come back there?"
Dead silence.
Suddenly, TD manages to get his balls strapped on, and he's herding the combatants down the corridor, out the door and halfway down the back stairs.
And I realise that I'm about a heartbeat away from tears. I could have kissed the VP, which would have been *really* embarrassing.
Anyway, it's been over three hours since that happened, and I'm still feeling that adrenalin flutter under my ribs. Not to mention the utter disgust with myself at having let it get to me. It's been seven years, dammit; I oughta be over it by now!
I just hate that he can still screw with my head, from a distance.
Won't be sleeping much tonight; guess that means more writing will get done. You may consider this a good thing...
Shit, I wish I could drink.
*sigh*
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no subject
Date: 2004-03-17 04:43 am (UTC)You feeling better this morning? Damn, but men are just like dogs, aren't they? Always pissing around each other. 'My territory! Mine!' ~_~
You need to keep some water balloons in a drawer somewhere and the next time they start that shit, just lob a couple over the partition. That's what they do with fighting dogs... turn the damn hose on them!
Jeez... what a bunch of morons!
*snuggles you*
You doing ok now? *frets and worries*
no subject
Date: 2004-03-17 06:00 am (UTC)The worst part of the argument is, I know who was right, and it wasn't the person who eventually 'won'. *sigh*
I did get some writing done, so that's good... But I do not want to do this again today. Wish I could just call in sick, because I sure feel like crap, but if I don't work, I don't get paid.
no subject
Date: 2004-03-17 07:01 am (UTC)Sucks that the 'good guy' lost, though isn't that always the way? Being right seldom has anything to do with it. ~_~
Is it safe to assume that the writing that happened, ended up somewhat angsty? ^^;
no subject
Date: 2004-03-17 05:12 pm (UTC)Today was very surreal... Very quiet. TD was late. Mr 'I am a Manager!' was late, and pissed, because he had to stay late to try to save something that was not coming out properly in production. Only the supervisor was pleasent; he went home at his usual time and came in at his usual time.
I spent the day twitching at noises, and surfing the web for job-related websites.
Gonna try to finish what I started last night...
no subject
Date: 2004-03-17 07:35 pm (UTC)And mellow writing is just as good as angsty writing... ^^;
no subject
Date: 2004-03-17 06:28 am (UTC)People yelling at each other usually has me pretty upset too so I can only imagine what you must have gone through. Feeling better now though I hope? and don't feel ashamed of yourself. It's not your fault that you feel this way and you're getting better every day so this will pass and you'll be ok. Males can be completely stupid sometimes with their pissing contests. Next time, don't get scared. get angry. =)
*huggles*
no subject
Date: 2004-03-17 05:16 pm (UTC)Manager was half a tick away from that slavering-rabid-dog tone in his voice; I HATE that. I'd bet he was close to spitting, he was that pissed.
...and people wonder why I haven't 'found someone else' after all this time...
no subject
Date: 2004-03-18 05:52 pm (UTC)I know what you mean though. Full out rabid dog pissing contests just get on my every last nerve and that usually either makes me huddle somewhere safe or it puts me in full out Bitch Mode. Hopefully it wont happen again 'cause it would just suck if you had to claim mental breakdown from work related stress. but then again, at least you'd get a break ... *hugs you*