have you tried imagining her hair falling out in chunks whenever she says something horrible? that used to help me a little. josh and I used to discuss it at length.

I think you should just have sjet come over to your office and give her a good, swift punch in the mouth…

Or, alternately, I could learn to not be so sensitive, goddammit. (I don’t think that one’s going to happen.)

You’re not alone.

The last job I got fired from I had this exchange in my last week where a contractor kept calling to confirm the right address of the job site, and I kept checking the map to make sure I was right the last time and then telling him that it was still the same and asking him why he thought it was different. And he always said it was because some underling had the wrong address and he just wanted to be sure because they were printing up business cards and such and it’d be really expensive to fix. So finally one day he calls me and says, “You know what though? I just got a letter from your office with this other address for my space.”
And I said, “Huh?”
And he said, “Seriously. A letter. Right here front of me, from your office, telling me the address on my space is that other one everybody always thinks it is.”
“Um.” I said. “Whose name is on the letter?”
“Your supervisor’s.”
“Okay,” I said. “Let me call you back. But I just want to assure you, I was looking at the master site map for that space. Nobody should have changed the address without changing the map. I’ll get back to you.”
So I took my job description out of my desk drawer and went back to my supervisor’s office. I pointed to the part of the job description that said, “Maintain master site maps and note changes of address. Inform clients of changes to postal service, address changes, and alterations of the site plan,” and said, “What’s up with this new address at So and So?”
And she was all, “You didn’t tell him the old address, did you?”
And I said, “Of COURSE I did. It’s on the master site map. The definition of ‘master site map’ is that it’s RIGHT. I’ve been working with the post office to maintain the address scheme of our site plan. I’ve been giving out addresses. See, it says right here that’s my job.”
“Right. To give out the RIGHT addresses.”
I took a deep breath. “Listen. There are over a hundred and fifty sites on this map, and there are eight people in this office. I get five or six calls a day asking for address. Rather than me going around and asking everybody in the OFFICE if the address is right before I give it out, it seems to make sense to me that anyone who knew something about a change of address would just TELL ME. Since it’s, you know, MY JOB and not YOURS. That makes sense, right?”
“Did he print stationary with the wrong address?”
“Of course he did! He checked it with me five times before he did it, too!”
“Oh my god. You’re not supposed to give out the wrong information.”
“Yeah, but, see, you’re not supposed to give out any information at all. Does it say in your job description that you’re supposed to inform clients of their correct address? NO. Does it say you’re supposed to talk to the post office and get addresses changed? NO. So how did this guy get this other address? Somebody must have told him. Hm. I wonder who that could be. Oh. Wait. It was YOU. See, so I’m wondering how this could possibly be my fault, since I did exactly what I was supposed to do, and you acted totally outside your brief.”
“But you didn’t do what you were supposed to. You gave out the wrong information.”
When the security guards came rushing in ten minutes later I was strangling her with the power cord from her computer monitor.

And how long did they allow you to continue to strangle her? I hope it was up to the point where she was on the verge of losing consciousness. Then I hope they very gently escorted you from the building (and in a perfect world, they would have gone back and beat the offender senseless with leather bags filled with quarters).

Okay, here’s my ugly job experience. About 10 years ago I worked as the Office Manager for one of the City’s largest non-profit theatre companies. My boss, the Managing Director was a full-blown psycho case. One example: every year we would have a board meeting to go over the theatre’s financial status. One of my jobs was to assemble the Annual Report, which included among other things a financial statement and projected budget for the following year. These were put together by our Accountant, and my only responsibility was to collate what she gave me into the report. I had absolutely nothing to do with gathering or reporting this information, which the Managing Director was supposed to review and approve prior to inclusion into the report.

So, after waiting, and waiting for this crucial piece of information, it was finally handed to me about two days before the board meeting, and I copied, collated and finalized the report binders, just as I was supposed to. I then gave a copy to the M.D. for final review. The next day, less than 24 hours before the meeting, the M.D. comes storming out of their office, and begins literally screaming at me in front of the entire administrative staff, because a.) the financial statement is incorrect, and b.) the little folder tabs that separate each section of the report have a 1/32” gap between the little strip of paper and the edge of the tab holder! I am not kidding! I left the office at lunch and went for a long walk, literally in tears the entire time.

Nonetheless, I still managed to redo all the reports, this time with the correct information (for which the Accountant by the way didn’t receive so much as a raised eyebrow, let alone a public tongue-lashing) and with all the little folder tabs positioned so that the little gap was gone.

Along comes the meeting, the reports are handed out, and as is usually the case in this situation, 90% of the board members didn’t even open them. When the meeting was over, I picked up fully half of the reports, which had been left by board members, unperused.

I left about a month later and went to live on a farm in the country for four years…