PlazaJen: Passion Knit

So, we are a household that reads the funnies. And since JWo's always up before me, he leaves them in the bathroom, folded to the 2PG spread that encompasses the funnies. Because I gotta see what my man Bucky's up to!

However, while he doesn't really read the rest of the stuff in the FYI section, I do. And so this morning, in my usual routine, I finish with the funnies, start to unfold the paper, glance at the Dear Abby headline, and then commence to restore the paper to its original form, so I can go through it.

And then I screamed.

JWo came downstairs a few minutes later. "What were you yelling about?"

me: "SOMEBODY NEEDS TO WARN THE SWEETIE THAT HER EX-BOSS IS ON THE FRONT PAGE OF THE FYI!!!!! SOMEBODY NEEDS TO!"

JWo: "Oh, shit! I only saw the pots & pans on the bottom (beneath the fold). Is that her?"

me: "OH YES!"

And from there it was established that OH YES this would be a blog entry, former employer and all that crap be damned. This was the woman who left for hours at a time each day, couldn't calculate net from gross, used company resources to develop her business plan (including employees to pull the research!), the business she left the company to start, and SHE wanted to fire ME. And because I know the phone lines alllllll across the metro are going to be ringing today. (and not all because of me. she made a lot of people unhappy over the years.) Now she runs a lingerie store & has a giant four-color photo of herself in the paper.

me, in the shower: "Oh, don't you worry. THIS IS A BLOG. People are going to want to know what I think."

And with that, I couldn't have been any more Bucky Katz, EN FUEGO.

JWo: "Good thing you don't have a computer in there."

me: "GOOD THING. Dont' worry. I'm writing in my head right now."

Ohhhhhh. Who needs a cup of coffee to start their day? NOT ME! I might need some tequila shortly, however. Patron, anyone? BITCHES. AIGH. I just keep reminding myself that karma's a bitch, man. You can't screw over people's lives and expect unbridled success and joy the rest of your life. Even if you make a bunch of money, I am convinced that unless you are completely without a conscience, there are times in the night, when you're awake & alone, and the silence surrounds you to the point its deafening, you know in some tiny corner of your heart how your actions have hurt people in your life. For her, I can only hope for deafening guilt, and poor panty sales.

AIGH! I need a drink.