It meant I had to climb up a flight of stairs to my office which was seriously overheated in winter and summer, with the added charm of having ductwork so dirty that I was itching all over whenever the air was circulating, especially on my neck, arms, and legs for most of the past month and a half. I had hives so bad that I wanted to claw off my skin, and I worked with that lovely sensation every day. Only when I went downstairs would the itching stop.
So I complained to the boss. I was dismissed to the point where I showed her the rash on my legs, the hairbrush dots and welts. She conceded that her daughter complained about a problem in a way that implied I was not truthful somehow.
The boss worked on the spare desk in my office last week. Monday morning, two of the laborers came into my office, entered the cockloft, and emerged with a filthy air filter. Without a word being said, it became pretty clear that the problem was not just affecting me or my imagination, but just maybe that there was a real situation of some allergen or chemical blowing all over me while I worked in my little penthouse sweatshop.
Then, Friday, I was told I was being "let go". That phrase always brings to mind an image of being dangled out a window and released. Except that the next paragraph included a "I hope you don't mind if [female boss] calls you to get help for the next few days with what is on your desk" and a request to tell him what was on my desk. So I did. And got the feeling that I was explaining nuclear fission to a duck. I was so shocked that I forgot to remove my passwords and personal stuff from the computer, and am left with the image of my kids pictures and my desktop art sitting on that machine in a place I really loathe, for the amusement of people that lied to me. And exposed me to god only knows what stuff that made my skin itch when I was just trying to work and earn a living.
I will keep repeating my phrase about 'living well is the best revenge" and move on. I know what the truth is, and what the lies were, and I am better off being an honest person than the people that misrepresent and abuse. They have the idiot accountant, the software that doesn't work, the benefit of having the mistakes of my three predecessors cleaned up even if they have no idea that there were mistakes, and all that. I did a good job. And they know I did, too. Else he would not feel compelled to fire me while asking me to accept their phone calls and help them. What kind of people do that? I know. And so do they. And it is really that simple. As the officer says "Move on, nothing to see here". Or as I just said to one of my coworkers about the pretentious religious zealot that also worked there - living like that is more than enough punishment. We make our own hell. I prefer to make my own heaven, thank you. I'd rather be the person that bought a bag of ice because I felt sorry that the boss was in pain from having a tooth extracted, and spent time doing things for others so that they would not have to do them, than in the shoes of those that abused that largesse. Not one moment in those shoes, in fact.
I'm perfectly fine in mine right now, thank you.
Now, do you really think that I could not figure out what was going on, either? I knew. Right along. Gives me points for having character that you will never have. And pity the poor soul that next moves into that office, because she will inherit a legacy of lies and mismanagement. Or he. That person will be free to take lunch at three PM, to go to the bank and never get a penny for gas, and to be expected to do the Yassssurh dance whenever the boss makes an entrance. The difference is that I mistakenly liked you as a person. And thought that the same was true of you. Now I know why the other woman cried so much (as you repeatedly told me). And it wasn't because of her mother-in-law. It was because she was trapped.
I'm not.
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