![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
My grip on my temper is weak at best today, due to another night of interrupted sleep and rebellious hormones. Oh, and I have cramps, too.
Yesterday, when I was feeling better, I bitched about Gerald, who deserves it, and today, as I'm feeling really lousy, I'm going to bitch about my friend and colleague Irene. Just a bit.
She is an old friend, and I really, really like her a lot. She has many sterling qualities but, as do we all, a few habits that drive me crazy on a good day. On a bad day like today, I'm sincerely glad I don't have any sharp or heavy objects in my office. (Well I do, but the letter opener rests a safe distance away -- I feel even less like moving than committing murder)
The good thing is that, once we're back in Vienna I won't be exposed to aforementioned habits on a daily basis and therefore won't mind. Here, OTOH, it's mostly the daily exposure that makes me want to kill her (on bad days).
Habit # 1: she is Miss Short Straw (or Miss Half-Empty if you prefer).
Habit #2 -- although this is really more of a personality trait: low self-esteem
Habit #3: she could whinge for Austria.
Although she's had fewer days of sick leave than I during her time here in Skopje, every effing day it's either a headache, or she slept badly, or her stomach doesn't feel right. Every. Bloody. Day.
I think that, given half a chance, she'd find some reason why even a denizen of the slums of Calcutta is better off than she is. These comparisons aren't made openly or in an accusatory manner, but in the form of gushing praise of something somebody else has got, with a slight undertone of "how lucky you are, and how unlucky am I". Take, for example, our respective flats: Mine is south-east-facing, hers north-west. This means that, generally speaking, mine gets more sunlight, which is wonderful in winter but an absolute bitch in summer. Nevertheless, she never, ever misses an opportunity to stress how wonderfully bright my flat is compared to hers. Also, her flat faces the street, whereas mine overlooks a building site and the terrace of the hotel located in our building (east) and the entrance to the building (south, my bedroom balcony). Yes, she's a light sleeper, and yes, sometimes a car goes by during the night. Compared to what I had to endure every bloody day including weekends from February 2010 till November 2011, 6 a.m. to 6 p.m., in terms of dust and sheer nerve-wrecking noise from the building site, I daresay she isn't worse off than I am. Not to mention that from time to time there are people coming home or leaving in the middle of the night and having loud arguments directly under my bedroom. Oh, and the sometimes near-constant chatter of people sitting on the terrace.
Habit #4, which only drives me crazy on very bad days and normally just mildly annoys me: when she's nervous -- which is very often -- she emits a constant trickle of clucking, tutting, tsk-ing, hissing and murmuring to herself (the murmuring is, as far as I can tell, just loud thinking, of which she doesn't seem to be conscious most of the time). I don't comment on it, because I suppose it would make her even more insecure, but OMG does it ever drive me up the wall.
Do I feel better now? Nah, not really. But to look at the bright side, the bad night and feeling like shit in the morning induced me to go to work a little later than usual, which means on my own.
And now the punch line: I wrote her a text message saying "Good morning, had shitty night, will go to work a bit later".
Reply: "My night wasn't very good, either, but ok, see you".
You have no idea how much effort it cost me not to write back, "But you don't have cramps, so suck it up bitch!"
Sainthood seems very much within reach ;-) St. Bitch of Bitchville, or somesuch...
Yesterday, when I was feeling better, I bitched about Gerald, who deserves it, and today, as I'm feeling really lousy, I'm going to bitch about my friend and colleague Irene. Just a bit.
She is an old friend, and I really, really like her a lot. She has many sterling qualities but, as do we all, a few habits that drive me crazy on a good day. On a bad day like today, I'm sincerely glad I don't have any sharp or heavy objects in my office. (Well I do, but the letter opener rests a safe distance away -- I feel even less like moving than committing murder)
The good thing is that, once we're back in Vienna I won't be exposed to aforementioned habits on a daily basis and therefore won't mind. Here, OTOH, it's mostly the daily exposure that makes me want to kill her (on bad days).
Habit # 1: she is Miss Short Straw (or Miss Half-Empty if you prefer).
Habit #2 -- although this is really more of a personality trait: low self-esteem
Habit #3: she could whinge for Austria.
Although she's had fewer days of sick leave than I during her time here in Skopje, every effing day it's either a headache, or she slept badly, or her stomach doesn't feel right. Every. Bloody. Day.
I think that, given half a chance, she'd find some reason why even a denizen of the slums of Calcutta is better off than she is. These comparisons aren't made openly or in an accusatory manner, but in the form of gushing praise of something somebody else has got, with a slight undertone of "how lucky you are, and how unlucky am I". Take, for example, our respective flats: Mine is south-east-facing, hers north-west. This means that, generally speaking, mine gets more sunlight, which is wonderful in winter but an absolute bitch in summer. Nevertheless, she never, ever misses an opportunity to stress how wonderfully bright my flat is compared to hers. Also, her flat faces the street, whereas mine overlooks a building site and the terrace of the hotel located in our building (east) and the entrance to the building (south, my bedroom balcony). Yes, she's a light sleeper, and yes, sometimes a car goes by during the night. Compared to what I had to endure every bloody day including weekends from February 2010 till November 2011, 6 a.m. to 6 p.m., in terms of dust and sheer nerve-wrecking noise from the building site, I daresay she isn't worse off than I am. Not to mention that from time to time there are people coming home or leaving in the middle of the night and having loud arguments directly under my bedroom. Oh, and the sometimes near-constant chatter of people sitting on the terrace.
Habit #4, which only drives me crazy on very bad days and normally just mildly annoys me: when she's nervous -- which is very often -- she emits a constant trickle of clucking, tutting, tsk-ing, hissing and murmuring to herself (the murmuring is, as far as I can tell, just loud thinking, of which she doesn't seem to be conscious most of the time). I don't comment on it, because I suppose it would make her even more insecure, but OMG does it ever drive me up the wall.
Do I feel better now? Nah, not really. But to look at the bright side, the bad night and feeling like shit in the morning induced me to go to work a little later than usual, which means on my own.
And now the punch line: I wrote her a text message saying "Good morning, had shitty night, will go to work a bit later".
Reply: "My night wasn't very good, either, but ok, see you".
You have no idea how much effort it cost me not to write back, "But you don't have cramps, so suck it up bitch!"
Sainthood seems very much within reach ;-) St. Bitch of Bitchville, or somesuch...
