ain’t no stopping a hormone (or twelve)

It’s a damned good thing I took tomorrow off.

One of my supervisors decided that snippy was the way to go today and had a small fit over something that I’ve been blatantly doing for eons with no ill effects.

Okayyy then… no problem changing, but requesting the modification 6 months ago might have been nice…

Argh. It was just a weird way to end the day. Maybe it was the heat, the bad ventilation, the almost-but-not-quite-Friday mood or the early morning dealing with ornery equipment that made her cranky – and, regardless, this is certainly nothing that I’m about to take personally – but it does make me look a little more forward to my vacation day tomorrow.

How does that damn little demon-voice get control sometimes? I’ll hear myself [on the oh-so rare occasion, of course] spit out something vile and, I swear, there’s literally next to nothing that I can do to stop it. I could stop taking mid-stream but, by that point, the look on my face and the few words that have escaped have made me a bitch whether I finish the phrase or not.

How to take it up another notch? Work with a bunch of strong-willed women. Fortunately, the two I work with the most [today’s snippy supervisor included] don’t make things personal and are refreshingly bullshit-free. A snip is generally just the result of an unrelated bad mood.

But I think, for the sake of curiosity now, that I’ll still check the timebook at work to see if anyone else has days off after any of my, or anyone else’s, little snips…

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