Mama told me there would be days like this...

First, I didn't sleep well, possibly anticipating the harrowing day to come. When I got up about 4am there was a visitor - pleurisy. Not an horrific case, but aggravating, nonetheless. (Why do I use that word when I write, but seldom use it in conversation?) Anyway, pleurisy, sniffles and a sinus headache were my morning companions.

Right after morning break my favorite tattler came to tell me about some other employees' work habits. I told her to go back to work. I should have known it wouldn't be that simple. Another employee came to tattle on her and we went downhill from there. I've never had a problem with tattlers until this particular person came to work a little over a year ago. Makes me want to pull my hair out. None of the usual tricks stopped her. Oh, was she ever gonna get her comeuppance today, and all by her own hand.

Not one to take anything with a grain of salt, my problem child burst into my office as I was investigating a charge of harassment, demanding to know what was going on. I told her I was busy and would talk to her later. Well, who am I to put her off? She demanded more loudly to know "what you're going to do to me" and again I told her I would talk to her later. I instructed her to go back to her workstation. "I have a right to know what you're going to do to me right now," she shouted at me. I firmly told her to go back to her workstation. Out she flounced, slamming the door and screaming, "I'm going home." Oh, yeah, please don't anyone stop her. It's called job abandonment and is considered self-termination. She screamed and hollered her way right out the door and I finally breathed a sigh of relief.

I won't even stress over going on vacation in October now that the troublemaker is gone. In my own defense, I went several extra miles to try to save her job; she has some deep-seated issues that I'm not equipped to deal with. Maybe there's someone out there who can help her because I certainly don't wish her ill. I just wish her on someone else. Sorry, potential employer, but she's all yours.

And so it goes in the life of a working girl...