All's well here. The F-word is getting more work. I've discovered how to be less defensive and more coherent (I think, anyways). We're off for a bit of a camp next week. Some of his family drama is getting resolved . . . and I've decided to stop being angry about the quintessential "bitch at work" - thanks, Chris Rock . . . hope you intended the world to be able to gender-bend with that epithet because my particular "bitch at work" is most definitely a man. A man who I think has both some serious psychological problems, and some tits that are bigger than mine coz' he's fat, but it is not cricket that I point it out, even though it's funny.
Actually, I'm pretty sure he's just trying to get fired - so I'm letting go of any anger. The thought that it'd be nice to get fired has occurred to me many a time, as long term readers may recall (though not now, since I'm on contract and actually like my job), and while I always ultimately rejected the idea as too fucking irresponsible in terms of its impact on my co-workers, I can both understand where this fucking chucklehead is coming from and I can minimize his impact, so I don't much care.
Anyways, in more general terms, I really find it amazing how men with psychological problems are so much more annoying to me than women with psychological problems. There are a lot of ways you could analyze the whys of that but I think the main one is that women, bless'em, really do their best to subsume all their fucking turmoil - make a college effort to at least try to seem like they're keeping it to themselves (obviously with a lot of spectacular fails but there you are) while when men have psychological problems, the incontinent cunts turn it into the whole world's problem. And then act surprised when they die alone. Well, whatever, I doubt one strategy's better than another, fundamentally.