Once upon a time I worked in a fairytale land. I had my husband working at the same company in a job that made us both happy. My best friend worked three feet away. My boss (a preacher) was a male who without admitting it, enjoys a girl with a nice rack; which is well established that I like mine and am not afraid of showing it. I had free reign of the internet, breaks, lunches, work hours, etc. This combination made coming to work a joy.
Then the economy took a shit on my fairytale. My husband, my best friend, and my boss got let go. All of this leads up too the point of this blog. I am left with the wicked step-mother and her evil daughters. I now sit three feet from my boss who will further be known as the WSM. The WSM does not appreciate a nice rack as hers are bigger than mine and she doesn’t enjoy them at all. So now if I’m not covered to the neck there will inevitably be a comment about skin showing. The WSM is also all about reports, timelines, and micromanaging. She does not appreciate the internet, socializing, or overtime.
Then we have the step-sisters. These are the shrews the title refers too. They both think they’re perfect. The three of us sit within an arms length of each other. We are all three different age groups. I am in my early thirties. The evil step-sister (ESS) is in her forties, and is the newest addition to our department. She transferred in awhile ago. She is mouthy and positive her way is the right way. She’s just a bitch and proud of it. That’s the only way to explain her. The other one she’s the pain in the ass step-sister (PSS), is in her fifties. She has been doing this job for 10+ years. So she’s always right too and seems to think she’s exempt from doing it the way the WSM wants it. She is a nice person but she sucks the life out of me some days. They don’t like each other, and they don’t like me. Depending on the day and who they’re the crankiest at they run to the WSM and cry about things and then we have to have a meeting. Then post meeting they come out here and bitch about each other to me. It’s a never ending cycle.
It used to be something I could handle rather well. I really worked on it. Put my IPod in and remember the good old days, ignore them both, that kind of thing. Now with my pain and symptoms escalating at such a rapid rate I can barely contain my contempt for the three of them in a single sentence let alone a day or entire week.
My fairytale is now a nightmare.