Panic Attacks, Lady Parts Surgery and Gossip - My Week In A Nutshell!

Hello My Lovelies!

The blog is gonna be pretty raw today so again, don’t complain about The Diva’s language because shit just got real!

Okay, earlier this week, I had somewhat of a health crisis.  Oh don’t worry, I’m fine but where I work I suffer panic attacks and I had one that overwhelmed me on Tuesday and I sort of kind of collapsed.

You know how it is – the work environment is ideally located somewhere between the 5^th level of Hell and Walt Disney World and because I internalize my rage, anger, and frustrations, it manifest itself in the form of panic attacks.  Usually I can relax it away by popping in a calming CD or if it gets too bad, I can go outside and catch my breath…except it was 9,000 degrees and there was no air, so I couldn’t catch my breath.  Co-workers called 911 and the Fire Department and an ambulance showed up.

While I thought it was great for them to do that, how come I never get the firemen who look like sexy calendar pin ups?  I’m just saying.

So anyhoo, this little episode necessitated a ride to the emergency room but again don’t worry, I’m okay.  I waited nearly three hours and was never seen because you know…the hospital’s ER sucked and after awhile, I got all twitchy and shit and wanted to leave.  One of my two worst ever quirks were about to happen; one, I hate to wait and two, when I’m forced to wait for a really long time, I turn into a weird combination of Samuel L. Jackson, Millie Jackson and Lucifer and people will end up in the corner eating their hair by the time I finish cussing, but thankfully my kid (who turned 26^th on June 9^th) and her friend came and got me and I finally made it home, ate  her lousy cooking without complaining, popped some meds and went into LaLa Land.  At least I think I did…I honestly have no recollection of anything after that. 

I’m good and a week from day I’m finally going on medical leave for my Lady Parts surgery so YAY ME!  The procedure is scheduled for June 25 and I can’t wait for the two to eight weeks (probably four) of not dealing with the pain, constant bleeding, and my ugly ass work environment. 

But here’s what I want to talk about this time around - office gossip.  How often do you participate in said activity?  Be honest; has someone ever told you something in the strictest confidence and you couldn’t wait to get to the coffee machine and blab it out?  Or how about you see someone you don’t like and just talk shit about them knowing it would get around?  Or how about you just tell an outright bald faced lie just because you’re a lying sack of shit-stirring drama whore who likes to watch the chaos that comes from your fuckery?

Seriously – any of them? Most of them? One of them or even worse - you fucked somebody’s man on the job?  That’s just gross but it happens.  

You know how many of those I’ve done over the past nearly three decades in the work sector?  None.  That’s right – I don’t do that shit.  It’s not that I don’t talk shit about people – I talk plenty about people but I talk about people I don’t like.  I’m just not going to talk shit about them and then turn to them and say, “hey girl!”  Nope, I’m not fake like that.  If I speak to you on some level past pleasantries, you’re chill with me.  If I just say, “good morning, good afternoon,” either I don’t know you that well or I’ve seen something in you that kind of makes my left titty itch and I don’t want anything to do with you beyond that point.  If I don’t talk to you at all, either I don’t know you at all or you’re a pretty fucked up piece of shit and Baby Jesus hates you.  In fact, Baby Jesus is thinking of unique and creative ways to kill your dog in some really fucked up way in front of you.

It’s the work place, for Pete’s sake.  If you’re not some young, idealistic twenty-something fresh faced kid new to the game, you should understand how office politricks work. You should be able to smoke out who to chill with, who to avoid, what you can and can’t say to certain people and not do the Happy Hour thingy with them.  Yeah, that’s what you need – go to The Rotting Knot after work, drink a jello shot and on Monday you’re a drunken whore who fucked everything with a leg, including the tables.  Don’t think for one minute that women are the only ones who do that shit either.  I’ve come to find that men are just as bad if not worse than women when it comes to gossip mongering.  I often look at men who do that shit and wonder if shit like this is the reason why they’re either single or their wives/girlfriends/significant others are cheating on them.  Women want a man, not a girl with a strap on.

Okay, that last part could be misinterpreted but you get what I mean…It’s okay if your significant other has a strap on…you just don’t want to be with a man who has a bigger pussy than you.

That’s better!

The worst thing about office gossip is that often times it’s not about what’s being said but by whom.  The unchecked research would indicate that the majority of gossips are 50+ year old women.  You know the ones - old bitches walking around in cheetah print shirts, Capri pants, slip on shoes all Peggy Bundy and shit, skeleton-looking, sun-dried hags still reaching for that youthful look they hadn’t seen since they started chain smoking during the Victorian Age, as they careen towards the centenarian stage in their meaningless meat puppet lives. They’re worse than teenage girls on a texting binge.  They spread rumors, tell outright lies, pass information around and will stand in your face like the sweet great-grandmothers that they aren’t but the daggers in the eyes usually give them away.  I honestly don’t understand how you can get to a certain stage in your life where the AARP is sending you fruit baskets and gift certificates and still be doing the stupid ass shit you were doing in grade school, back when you wrote your lesson plans on a slate while sitting next to Mary and Laura Ingalls.  The freshness expiration date is over by multiple decades and yet you’d think that they were still in grade school or something.  They have jobs not because they need to work, but if they had to sit at home all day every day, their husbands would toss them down the well and throw cow carcasses on top to hide the smell.  Not one jury would convict them either.  You know their families are just waiting for the first stage of dementia to kick in so they can haul their Hank Hill bony asses down to Perpetual Brooks Nursing Home and Crematorium.

I personally overheard one tell one of my coworkers an outright lie.  It was a lie when she said it; it was a lie when the girl heard it and it made my jaw drop because it was such a blatant lie.  Why did she say it?  Because she wanted to see someone lose their job so she could sit back and probably laugh about it.  See, this Crypt Keeper hasn’t been working for the facility that long and those who would ever hear this would have never believed it because it has never ever happened…EVER in the history of our facility.  NEVER! Thankfully, the girl she told never repeated it.  It was too ridiculous. What was crazy was she had this straight look in her face as she said it; all angelic and a voice full of concern. It was incredible. If you didn’t know she was a lying sack of beaver shit, you would have believed it! 

Down here in the Dirty South, gossip is a way of life. You honestly can’t escape it without some significant effort.  When I first moved here, I didn’t have this issue much because I’m not a talkative person unless I know you…then I can’t shut up but anyhoo, I worked at this one place and I was introduced to this maintenance worker.  We were having a pleasant conversation about me moving here – I just told him I was interested in new locations and meeting new people, which was true, when this girl came in and said hello. He introduced us and after she left, he said, “Yeah that’s Tonya.  Tonya’s husband left her for this other gal so now she’s seeing this boy over in the mail room.  The really bad thing about it is her husband gave her syphilis and…” At that point, I just said I gotta go and left.  I worked at that place for five years and except to exchange pleasantries, I never spoke to him again.  How incredibly nutless of him.

It’s not relegated to us peons…oh dear gawd no, I’ve heard supervisors, managers and all points in between do the same thing.  These are the people who decide your fate on the job who participate in gossip like little pussy boys hearing the word “butt” for the first time, then they tell you, “You can always come to me if you need to talk.”  Sheeeit!  What do I look like, Boo Boo the Fool?  Yeah, miss me with that shit.  It’s like a “Bitchassness for Losers” free-for-all sometimes.  I honestly don’t understand people like this.  What is so fucked up at home and in your life that you have to come to work, where you spend the majority of your entire day awake, and create such utter madness?  How could you even look someone in the face and smile after you’ve spread so much devastation?  You know you’re up to no good from the moment you wake up in the morning and then go to an environment where you spend the first few moments of the day seeing how much shit you can stir up.

…and then go to church on Sunday and praise the Lord.

Wow.

It’s a lot to ponder.  Before you decide to spread some juicy little tidbit about someone, don’t think for a moment how that makes that person feel because you’re kind of beyond that pesky little quirk called compassion - think about how that truly makes you look.  Yes, people will listen to your rancid shit hole but who would truly trust you?  Who would truly like you?  Not that being liked is something that everyone strives for (what others think about you should mean dick to you), and while I get the concept of wanting to be liked, do you really want to be known as That Bitch Who Talks Shit About Everybody?  You also have to be careful in not feeding the gossips.  What may seem like something innocent coming out of your mouth may end up at the coffee machine as something completely different than what you said and if you get caught up in it, you might have a very hard time getting out of it.  Besides, you should cultivate friendships outside of work.  Not that I don’t knock friendships that develop at work, but this is where you earn your livelihood.  I don't care what people think of me, but I do care about being respected.

There’s only so much your coworkers need to know about you and you can’t trust other people to not abuse and take advantage of you.  That ship should have sailed a few years ago.  Naivete is not an excuse. There’s always someone at work looking to find the softest spot to stick the knife.  Don’t give them that chance.

Well, that’s my PSA for now.  I’ll see you again after my Lady Parts surgery. PAWTAY!!!

*deuces*

Peace out!

nnb