06 May 2013 - 14:07The more time I spend around Cindy, the more I get to know her... the more I realize I greatly dislike her.
It's nothing against the lady, yeah? And I get that she's pregnant and all that jazz, but-- Man, screw it! Jus' say y'don't like the broad, eh? Okay. I don't like the broad, yeah? Shit's got nothing to do with pregnancy and hormones or even her being eager to learn. She's smart. I think she's assimilated most of what she needs to learn about the system already. But she's nosy. And talkative (likes the gossip). And self-important. And everything I absolutely am not. She also has no respect for personal bounderies. Both physical and figurative.
I can't wait for it all to end. I usually dislike the double-shifting as it is. She makes it worse. Swear to God, I'm pulling into the parking lot an' I see her SUV parked right godddamn there, and I remembered I have to "train" her, and I could feel the corners of my mouth begin to turn down into a frown, then a scowl. Still, c'mon, lady's pregnant, yeah? Be nice in the mornin' to expectant 40-year-old mothers, ya foul prick.
Her back is to me when I go up the stairs and into FDC. "Hey, Cindy!" Feeble. Defeated. Already, my day sucks. I'm vaguely apprehensive. She replies with a slight glance over her shoulder, "Hey, Cris!" It all goes downhill from there.
It's fascinating, really, the little white lies we tell, the hypocritical little games we play to get through our day-to-day. Sometimes I barely make it to the end, crawling, dragging my ass into the finish line, tired and shamed. There are three types of people in this world I can't stand: cowards, liars and hypocrites. Funny. I'm at least two outta three. Although Art once told me I've got some balls on me, so at least I'm not a pussy. At least, I hope I'm not.