The thing that bugs me is that I was upset even though this is what I secretly wished would happen. The boss-lady was a penis-wrinkle and I hated her without knowing what it was I hated. So now I don't have to see her anymore - other than the month I have to spend training the person who will now be doing my job. The person who will be doing my job is a friend and a lovely woman; I am glad to train her; and I wish her luck working with the penis wrinkle. It seems fucked up, and it kind of is.
The bottom line (and I will use bullet points here because I always do):
- I am glad to be done with a job that was making me miserable.
- Despite that, I feel crappy because I don't like to fail, and I feel as though I have failed.
- I like writing bad words, such as "penis wrinkle" and "fucked up" because I never, ever say them in my house now that I am a mother.
2 comments:
"Penis wrinkle" is an ode to my brother and sister. I think we used to call eachother by that name...about 15 years ago.
speaking of "penis wrinkle", i just watched what about bob with bill murray the other day. there are a couple of damn funny scenes where bob thinks that he has terets syndrome. i don't think that they ever yell "penis wrinkle", but i always wish that they would. he he.
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