(As I was getting ready to leave for the day and after 7 hours of Bosshole pissing me off at every opportunity)
Bosshole: I just printed a fee schedule. Go get it off the printer for me.
Me (after a very long pause in which I mentally discarded several rude responses): Are you kidding me?
Bosshole: No, I’m not kidding. You’re going that way anyway. Just get the print.
Me (shorter pause, still mentally sorting through responses that won’t get me fired. Again): You are amazing. Get it yourself.
Bosshole (trying to sound like she’s joking when she’s not): You better not come back here without that print.
I returned without the print.
Bosshole: Oh, I’m gonna throw you out the window.
(more muttering I couldn’t decipher)
She went to the printer as I was leaving. In the hallway, she stopped short right in front of me and forced me to go around her. I didn’t say anything. I didn’t look back.
Me: Why is she torturing me? (2 solid minutes of bitching about Bosshole and my job) I’m going to kill her. I’ll scatter the body and no one will ever find her. She’ll just disappear and I’ll tell everyone she was depressed. You promised me you wouldn’t turn me in, remember? I know you said you’d be mad at me, but you’d get over it eventually. Wouldn’t you?
MoC: It’s not like I haven’t gotten over it before.
Me (a Eureka! moment): Oh no … I think it’s PMS.
MoC: I was wondering about that.
Me: I’ll apologize tomorrow and blame the PMS because she’ll make me miserable if I don’t try to fix it. But I really hate kissing her ass.
MoC: Well … you don’t have to lick it.
Heh. Now that’s perspective for ya.
On a brighter note, my cousin had puppies last night.
Wait. Um, her dog had puppies. My cousin has children, but they aren’t dogs. They’re both very cute. So are the puppies.
Ooof. Never mind.