Love and Death (pt 2)

So there's all that. I took it all in stride, listened to their "concerns" (the human resource and politically correct term for a word whose equivalent is vulgar colloquial slang for "complaining" and rhymes with "hitching"), and went about my business . . . but it ate at me. And ate. And ate. And ate . . . until today when I finally had a chance to talk with my branch lead about it. In the "order" of things, he's directly over me--my boss. Team, me, my boss. Anyway, he filled in some additional details, during which a guy who sits in my 4-pod cube farm turned to us and said, "I'm not trying to listen, but I can't help but overhear. Dude, you need to know this: you have a pot-stirrer on your team."

"Really. Who?"

I've had some shocks in my life. Finding out my brother was getting married was a really good shock, but one that I saw coming. Finding out weef's sister was marrying my ex-roommate was another really good shock. Finding out that my dad was dying, very bad shock. Finding out my grandfather was dying . . . very VERY bad shock. This was somewhere just below the very bad shock. Hearing from an outside, unbiased source that someone on your team is berating you in front of the whole office is one thing. Finding out that it is the same person with whom you had a conversation TWO MONTHS AGO (does "two months ago" ring any bells?) about coming to me with any issues or concerns is a flat-out heart-stopping, paddle-gelling shock.

Not to mention I have the cold from hell. Literally. I think Satan has vexed our whole household with colds, sniffles, ear aches, achy joints, spasmadic coughs and general illness, the likes of which have only been told in the Old Testament. And last time I checked, Satan is supposedly from hell. Okay, fine . . . I hyperbolize, but only to emphasize a point--I'm sick. Really sick.

Part 3, coming up!