Formerly Friendly

No puppies were injured in the writing of this blog post.

Just called another work site and phone was answered by a former workmate who I was formerly friendly with.  His icy tone indicated I had either 1. thoughtlessly murdered his favorite puppy on my way to work or 2. said or done something to indicate I was a worthless piece of nada that deserved to be treated like a total shit. Since I had, in my best recollection, done neither I just had to chalk it up to another crazy day at hostile workplace central. This is what life is for: Random acts of isolation and crapitude.

Of course the rational thing to do is ask: Did I accidentally murder your favorite puppy or something? But maybe I just don’t want to know that badly. Maybe I just avoid calling that particular work site for love or money, and disguise my voice when I do if I absolutely cannot avoid it.  This is what I call “coping.”


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