
I am a stupid woman. I let my emotions run me, wear me down, consume me. I know better, yet I keep at it until there's nothing left.
Why do we keep running until we hit that proverbial brick wall? Why can't some of us just stop what we're doing, realize that the impact is going to hurt, and turn around?
There are qualities to my character that I didn't want to admit to but this experience with my marriage has taught me that I cannot escape the inevitable.
Do I wish wrong on those who have wronged me? Absolutely. Does that make me a horrible person? Probably. Am I the only person to ever want vengeance upon another human soul? Not in a million years.
What really angers me is her denial that she did anything wrong; it's one of my buttons, my pet peeves, my nails on the chalkboard. How she can write about her life, admitting to some very fucked up transgressions and then blame another person absolutely pisses me off. However, as much as I want to be able to control this situation, I never will.
She recently wrote that she wanted my boss, sexually, that she wanted to absolutely consume him. Her veiled blog entry was completely transparent; it would only take basic knowledge from reading her blog to know what situation she was talking about. When I saw her in the store flirting with my boss, I wanted to scream. Why do I fucking care? Because it's my work, I have to look at this man and respect him and it's extremely hard to do that when there's a woman whoring herself quite publicly to him. So I was not surprised to read her posts following that visit:
......want to fuck him. I want to screw him in whatever way I can. I want to suck his dick, throw him against a wall and bite his neck and mostly, pull on his blue tie in a very provocative manner in the middle of his fucking work day, just to see him wiggle uncomfortably. He just does it for me and I would definitely do it for him, if he would just fucking let me......I tried to persuade him today, but he just wasn't having it. He has too much to do, too many eyes are on him, he has a wife, I have a boyfriend, there's nowhere to do it and it's not that he doesn't want to, he just can't! .........I guess if he acted like he did actually want to fuck me, it wouldn't be such an issue. Or maybe, if I could talk to him for more than ten minutes, while not using puns and ridiculous code for all the evil and dirty things we'd like to do, I'd be inclined to stick around just a little longer.........
......And on top of it all, I sent a letter to "boss's name here", telling him to get his ass in gear and now I'm absolutely paranoid that someone else is going to intercept it and he's going to be screwed. I'm such a fucking idiot......
Interestingly enough, this edit is what appeared shortly after she posted the above passage:
And on top of it all, I sent a letter to the notorious blue tie, telling him to get his ass in gear and now I'm absolutely paranoid that someone else is going to intercept it and he's going to be screwed.....
The blue tie code is important, because she now claims that "nbt" is not my boss, but an ex-boyfriend that has magically appeared out of nowhere. The ex-boyfriend story might be believable, had there not been revelations on her part that she enjoyed the attention from men, including the boss. She is completely fucked up.
She had me believing that I had, indeed, caused my boss to hate me, but I don't think that is an issue. That he is completely uncomfortable around me is quite obvious, but I realized when I went to management with the issue in the first place that some fallout would happen. However, time will erode all of this bullshit, it always does.
So I have used my powers for evil and what I am left with is the knowledge that I've made her life absolutely uncomfortable; that she holds some vehemence for me assures me of that (because if she didn't care, she wouldn't spend any amount of time writing about me in the first place; at least I have the balls to admit I give a shit, albeit completely inappropriately).
I wanted to leave a comment on her blog, pointing out the obvious, but I realized that that would be the hugest fucking mistake I could ever make. Instead I pour my anger out here, knowing that the ONLY person who will read it is myself, as it should be. I do not have, nor will I ever have, the desire or will to spam my blog address for others to read it.
Lesson learned: don't fucking wish harm on others, because it will probably backfire. Or at the very least, make sure it's swift and quick and absolutely NEVER leave witnesses.







