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Retrogression? In my younger days, in my parent’s small square of Kambating, I had a tiny --- please allow me to call it, "sandbox" to play in. There, in the confine of that tiny sandbox, my vision surpassed boundaries and stretched halfway across the world. Now, I’m halfway across the world, with a much larger sandbox to play in but, I can’t see two feet from across my face.
I’m not complaining, merely venting a bit. I understand the venomous extent of my responsibility. I set goals and prioritize what’s needed to get done and like well-oiled-self-defrost refrigerators; my team and I hum along to the rhythm. Like seaweeds, we dance to the direction of the undersea current and perform the dance to the best of our abilities. The system work! We’re cruising. We keep to our deadlines; at times, we’re even a little ahead of schedule.
Then, dang it… come this tornado of a vacuum cleaner, sucking up the wind from all around us and demonstrated this most preposterous show that leaves peacocks in heat in the dust.
“Watch your step with him”, they’ve warned me. “Nah, you guys maybe just caught him on a bad day.” I said, siding with the man.
Bad day my donkey! This morning Mr. Brown Noser decided it’s time to mess with me. We had a brouhaha. Yes, I actually raised my voice louder than his (shocked myself too because I've never done such a thing before but, I lost it! Completely!) and was this terrifyingly close to tell him to --- shut the "F" up and go "F" yourself --- only because, he threw the first few choice of “F” words in first himself. He’s bitter and vile. Goodness, what the heck did he have on his coffee that set him off like that? Whatever it was, it set me off too.
“Some days, are meant to be counted," Liz Gilbert says. "Others", she continues, "are meant to be weighed.” Well, today is neither because today is a day that is, strictly, for the birds. Being a promdi, it takes a lot of abuse to get me mad but this morning, I was beyond mad, I was livid!
Mr. Brown Noser, now I fully understand what the whispers in the air are about. You’re so incredible that you actually have a piece of crap permanently attached to your nose and forehead for that matter. You can’t just worm yourself into everything and everyone (scare us shitless) especially on a PROMDI who has taken her stance. Respect yourself first and all will fall and rearrange themselves into place. In case you didn't know, no one, I mean no one, likes to perform on command! We're not dogs, or tigers, or elephants, or white horses on a travelling circus show. We are human beings. Have some compassion and gentleness, but I guess these words are not in your vocabulary. My good opinion of you is lost. I don't care who you are, what vehicle you drive, which side of Central Park your penthouse is located, whose initials are stamped on the back of your jeans. Please don't do it again. Don’t mess up with a promdi whose goal in life is simply to perform the best job she could possibly do in order to make a living.
I know that in most, if not all offices there is one, but, you Mr. Brown Noser is so efficient at brown nosing that you count for 10.
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It's 5:30pm and I'm still stewing (can't help it). Mr. Brown Noser just pop his head at my door, told him: I have no apology to offer, then just like that he became the sweetest pie. Did I just got played again? By a professional brown noser? Time to get out and get some air.
_________________ "Be who you are and say what you feel, because those that matter... don't mind and those that mind... don't matter." Dr. Suess
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