It was my turn to get screwed over on Friday by my boss's eldest, hereafter known as Tony Two-Face.
Everything that I proposed in the yearly editorial meeting was flung out the window, while Fruitcake, who refused to attend the meeting, demanded that the yearly media kit be arranged according to his liking. So once again, I was on the receiving end, caught off guard and wondering when I mentioned that this format was acceptable.
Do my ideas count for nothing?
It really peeves me because barely three weeks ago, Fruitcake essentially asked me to man up and be a contributor who is passionate about the magazine. He told me not be "an order-taker". What strikes me as stupid is that when I do step up to the plate to pick a format that flows, I am subtly told to step down and shut up and to not bother trying.
What do they want me to be? Do they want me to be passionate about making this work? Or are they merely attempting to attach strings on me so that I follow every command and whim?
Anyways, on Friday, Tony Two-Face got Fruitcake involved in an editorial disagreement...and I feel terrified of stepping into the office again. Everytime I think about what I must face this week, I find it hard to breathe and I feel that perhaps its better if I just resign now. It is within Fruitcake's office that I have tolerated his insults and his threats. I have tolerated his stupidity and his biased behaviour. I have tolerated his name-calling and his refusal to listen to my ideas and explanations. Not once have I ever defended myself and yet, he never seems to stop.
I feel that if he insults me one more time after Friday's little incident, I am going to put him in his place. I am going to be firm and stand my ground and I am going to politely ask him to check himself before contradicting his own arguments.
But then again, at what expense does my defense come attached to?
And then I have to ask myself a million dollar question: Is it really worth telling Fruitcake off for ten minutes of satisfaction?
Sigh.
*~I'm empty, lonely, and accused
Accused without a word
My fingernails are chipping down
From clawing in the dirt
I'm so lost, lost and confused
I threw it all away
How can I be beautiful
When I am so afraid~*
1 comment:
OMG we seem to be working for the same bunch of loony arseholes.
This could have been a post from my own work experience. But don't blame yourself for having a work ethic.
Jeez.
Bleedy *&#^$... all they want are giggly airheads who will ooh and aah appropriately. And showing cleavage is a sign of 'enhanced performance'.
~There's no other explanation for the office bimbo who went for breast augmentation, and was made manager.
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