Flat What: Work Isn’t Anymore

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I woke up to a series of angry, incomprehensible texts this morning. More than a few were flat out ad hominem attacks. Thinking that it was just too early in the day I place a phone call to my supervisor—maybe it’s a case of reverse word salad.

Nope, I see, as the attack continues over the phone. I’m getting berated for calling to ask if I am on the schedule earlier at three AM—what, I was awake, next door was loud, and it occurred to me to check. I had the beginnings of a migraine, but I mentioned I was confident the meds would work. They did, and I was up and ready to roll when I notice the messages.

Then I called wondering about the messages left in my inbox, trying to find out if I am in fact working or not.

What I get is yelling and rambling, a long speech about my supervisor’s bedbug issue, period, car, and problems with the rest of the staff, and THEN I’m told that from here on if she’s working then she’s making sure I don’t.

…incidentally, that is why the WTF Just happened bitstrip.

Oh well. More rest—more energy to combat.

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