An angry black woman

I might be on the news tonight.

Not because I rescued some kids or puppies and kittens or because I accomplished something great. I won't even be that random ignorant person answering a question about the Phillies or Eagles, or gas prices, or politics. I might be on the news tonight because I'm one aggravating incident from completely blacking out on someone. Biblical black out-the stuff of Revelations. Jesus will come back tonight if one more mother-f**ker trips my switch.

Perhaps I should start at the beginning. It's been a really long month. I think I've had mono for most of it. I've been dragging ass, struggling so hard to stay awake at work, I was almost tearful. I've spent most of my energy for the day just getting my ass out the door to work. Insomnia, tight pants, crazy hair, sadistically unflattering fluorescent lighting in the women's bathroom at work that makes me look downright unprofessional when I wear my hair curly and over 40 when I wear it straight, passive aggressive dudes with the keys to my house shitting in my bathroom, dog cancer, nervous about getting well before going to see best friend with infant children... All pretty ordinary things, just amplified in intensity by a compromised immune system.

So I break down today and decide that I should probably stop relying on my medical degree in diagnosing illness through Google and make an appointment with a real live medical professional. After a day of listening to a recorded message estimate my time on hold as one minute and my impatient hanging up at minute 8, I finally got through to someone at 3 pm. They told me to call back at 4 for Saturday appointments as all Friday appointments were taken. I called at 4 pm. She put me on hold so I was just chillaxin, pressing numbers every now and then to be sure I was still connected to something until the fast busy confirmed what I suspected when she put me on hold. Dumbass dropped the call. I called back at 4:15 pm and they had booked all of their Saturday appointments. Even typing this I want to choke someone out. She tried initially to pretend she didn't know who I was but we had talked no less than three times that day. She could have told me my own birthday, she had asked me so many times. Bitch please. I'm sick, not stupid. She finally apologized and booked me for an appointment on Monday afternoon-a time she had told me earlier that day she couldn't book for me any earlier than Monday morning. She knew she messed up and I'm glad I didn't have to show up there to force the issue.

I left work early into a windy and quickly deteriorating day. I thought, well at least today was Skid Mark's last day. The keys will be on the table and he will be out of my life. But it was clearly not meant to be the kind of day with an upside. I don't even have an adequate expletive for the note that ass wipe left me on my key-less table. To get into my place, you need both a key and a fob. The fob is issued by the building and is not free. My new dog walker needs this fob to start on Monday. Steve did not fucking leave the fob or the key. He left me a note instead relaying he would be giving the key to Susan so she could mail both to me because he couldn't engage the deadbolt if he left the key in the house. What. the. fuck. I thought my head was going to come clean off. I had to ASK him to start locking the deadbolt in the first place and even then the dumbfuck would leave it unlocked at least 2-3 times a month. Today was the day he decided to be conscientious. Really, you passive aggressive asshole with access to my home? You couldn't text message me to see what I wanted you to do? Like maybe leave the deadbolt unlocked? Just this once for old times sake, you deuce dropping fuck?

So I fired off an e-mail to Susan. It was probably longer than it needed to be but I gave her a small vignette of life with Steve and some of her quirks that I did not care for, all politely and within the context of the feedback she requested when I initially informed her we were terminating our service. Regarding the keys, I said this:

"I found Steve not leaving my keys or even my fob today a tad passive aggressive as well. I came home several times over the last nine months to find the deadbolt not engaged but on this very last day, it prevented him from leaving my keys. He could have asked me if I wanted him to leave the deadbolt unlocked so he could leave the keys but instead chose to turn them over to you to have them mailed. It's never pleasant when a professional relationship dissolves but mailing my keys seems far from the last impression you should be leaving me with, especially since I recommended you to a neighbor who has used your service for their cats (and was delighted with Jen). I'm sure you'll be sharing this all with Steve which is why I waited until our last day to share this with you. I guess the bottom line is that I was not comfortable and felt that if I wasn't comfortable with someone you trusted as a manager, I was not likely to be comfortable with the subordinates as an alternative."

So...I'm feeling a little topped off on the rage provoking fodder for this week and not feeling terribly well to boot. Just in case I am on the news being carried away flailing COPS-style after someone says or does something tonight to make me legally insane, I'm taking requests for shout outs. If I'm going to be on the news, I've got to represent.