On Sunday, out of the blue Mom asked me why I had books on having a narcissistic mother under my bed years ago (yeah, guess who found them). WHY WOULD YOU BRING THIS UP NOW?

I had a great response: hey, remember the time when I asked you multiple times to stop talking about Dad's (really gross, redacted) and you told me it was more important for you to tell me than for me to not want to hear it?

This actually shut her up for a couple of minutes.

I told her later that she isn't that bad these days compared to back then, but she has moments like that. She tried to be all "aren't there times when you JUST NEED TO TALK TO SOMEBODY?" and I was all, "not really, because most of the time other people make me feel like shit, they don't make me feel better." Yes, I'm sure I was the only human on earth you could force to listen to stories of Dad's (redacted), but that doesn't make it right.

That was more or less the end of that one.

And y'all wonder why "boundaries!" don't work here.

So someone was mopping when I had to go get things off the printer. She was all, "watch out, I've been mopping" and I said something or other that I equated to "don't worry, I'll be okay!" and went through anyway. (I do that a lot at home. I'm practiced at not slipping.) I don't remember what I said, but apparently it was the rudest, most offensive thing in the world because the random person walking by and eavesdropping on this complained to my boss.

No, not the mopper, who as far as I can tell wasn't even a bit fazed. No, it was the big boss, who now thinks I am rude and offensive and my boss had to do a talking to and mini writeup on me.

Oh great, another office enemy who hates me. Already. I fucked up again. I don't know how the hell I am the worst person on earth here for the most minor of fucking shit.

Oh yeah, and someone else (ahem) complained about my eating at work, so now I can't do that either. Though I bet if everyone else ate and then made pig snorting noises, it'd be fine and dandy.

Seriously, at some point someone is going to complain that I am breathing too much or existing too hard around here.

It was a shitty day when that shit happens Monday morning at 9 a.m.

Note to self: just stop existing already, and do not speak if you see the big boss.

I had a cardmaking class to go to that night and while I was Not In The Mood to do this because I wanted to stay home and drink, it worked out well to be around nice people who don't hate me.

The next day's therapy appointment was fun, once again covering the topics of "you need another job," vs. "seriously there is nothing out there, I'm not kidding" and discussion of said shitty website searching and lack of opportunities, and whether or not to get diagnosed with Something before I get fired/so I can ask for "accommodations" since asking to get moved 4 times did no good. Because if I have done goddamned everything to make myself not offensive to coworkers and it still happens, either everyone is crazy or something is wrong with me. Most likely both.

I am not real thrilled at the diagnosed-with-something idea because I think that might make things worse and oh, take away my ability to get insured someday, and then there's the ol' "if you give me pills I will puke on you" argument that nobody buys at the pharmacy.

So as usual, round and round and there is no hope or reasonable way out that doesn't involve firing in one way or another. Whee, life.

Mom's suggestion for this was that I have a "tone" and "You're so ANGRY!" and once again, many many times, why don't you take anger management class? Good lord woman, I may get mad at work but I literally don't say a fucking word all day unless I have to any more. (Also, guess who brings out the anger in me? See above.)

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