Ignacio’s Impending Meltdown

CoffeeThat temp better watch himself.  Yeah, I asked him to get me a coffee, and yeah, I meant it.  In my job interview I specifically asked if it was OK to ask the assistants and temps to get me coffee, and the HR personal said, “oh yeah, of course, they love doing that kind of stuff.”  I’m not sexist either – this temp is a guy, and I asked him especially to make a point to the regular assistants that I am an equal-opportunity coffee-trip-sender – I ask the position, not the person in it.  I know they hate me because I heard them talking on the mezzanine the other day about what an asshole I am, and why can’t I make my own damn coffee at home or buy it on the way into work like everyone, and what a loser I must be and my wife is so unlucky!  Lucky for them I don’t believe in airing personal business at work, otherwise I would have burst in upon them like a category 5 hurricane full of shrapnel and dared them all in a banshee scream to tell me what it’s like to have an infant and a dying in-law living in your home at the same moment.  How I barely have time to get to make a piece of toast for my other son before he goes to grade school, in between the pharmacy and hospital trips, the late night feedings and early morning insulin shots.  I run through the parking garage in the morning to be at my desk by 9am and work for an hour off pure adrenaline, then the dread and exhaustion and sadness sets in and I need a coffee more than I need oxygen.  They would probably understand my reasoning if I told them, probably feel bad for me, even the temp.  But it’s none of their damn business.

This entry was posted in Careers, Character, Family, Food, Monologue, Relationships. Bookmark the permalink.

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