I quit! I'm a genius!

Am very happy today b/c I am phasing out of my job.

Am phasing out of my job b/c I was being caught between the gears.

I was being caught between the gears because the owner was telling me things she wanted me to do and not telling my manager what she wanted me to do.

And in not telling my manager what she wanted me to do she created a weird sitch between me and the manager.

This weird sitch between me and the manager worked as follows: I, assuming owner has communicated everything to manager, try to actually follow through on and deliver per owner's requests (good stuff in the workplace typically) and the manager contradicts me and blocks me.

The manager contradicts and blocks me at every turn, in fact, until I stop following through and delivering per owner's requests in an effort to appease manager I am now convinced feels completely threatened by me.

In an effort to appease manager I am now convinced feels completely threated by me, I twist myself into crazy pretzel knots of deferential behavior.

I twist myself into crazy pretzel knots of deferential behavior and the bitch still won't calm down.

The bitch still won't calm down and the owner has noticed my recent lack of follow through and delivery per her requests.

She has noticed this lack and she makes requests again.

She makes requests again and I say, "yeah, about that..."

I say, "yeah, about that..." and then explain the entire scenario.

I explain the entire scenario to her and then she says, "oh. I may have caused your problems because I didn't tell the manager what I was asking you to follow through on and deliver."

"I didn't tell her but maybe I should have. I'll talk to her today about this because I think this tension is just coming from a misunderstanding resulting from a lack of communication."

I think to myself that this tension (which is just coming from a misunderstanding resulting from a lack of communication) will soon be solved when I talk to the manager after the owner does.

When I talk to the manager after the owner does, she starts the conversation off with, "I can't stand passive aggressive people, and when you're being passive aggressive with me-"

When she says you're being passive aggressive with me, I cut her off because I can hear the ghosts of my ancestors snorting at that one.

The ghosts of my ancestors are snorting at the idea of me owning a passive aggressive personality, but I feel sorry for the manager- what does she know about psychology?

What does she know?

She knows nothing and I prove my lack of passive aggressiveness by directly confronting her on her foolish notion as well as a number of other things.

I directly confront her alright, in a respectful but assertive, crazy pretzel knot tone of voice.

She resents my crazy pretzel knot tone of voice and trashes me good.

She trashes me good and is actually incomprehensible at some points.

At some points she is accusing me of things she has no way of knowing and finally, I understand something.

I understand that this woman has not once during the entire conversation ever acknowledged that the owner ever spoke to me or to her about my following through and delivering ANYTHING per the owner's request.

Per the owner's request, I am talking to this crazy bitch, but I can see this is an emotional/personality trait based/ bullshit situation.

Yes, folks, this is an emotional/ personality trait based/ bullshit situation which, get this- WILL NOT CHANGE.

Unlike the manager, I do know something about psychology.

The symbol for hope.

So, I think what shocked me was that in this sad house with only one light on, suddenly I felt joy. Joy as you met me at the door. (I meant to ask you why you were here so late in the Louisiana night. That would have made sense. But I didn't ask.) And when you took me in your arms and walked me backward through room after room, I didn't question. (Although, I should have, right? Not just as to why you were here, but also I should have asked why he wasn't. Was he gone? Was he dead? Did I send him away? Does it even matter? I was finding that it did not.)

And the weight of desire wasn't mine any longer. It was on you now and you carried it as if it were easy. As if you'd been born to this. And into that dark room at the back of the house- the last in a long row of lonely rooms where I'd finished a marathon eight years of thwarted desire, doing work that wasn't mine to do, carrying a weight that wasn't mine to bear- you pushed me back. I fell onto the bed. And suddenly it wasn't the one I'd slept in alone for the past year and a half. This wasn't the room where I'd pondered the death of my love for him long before my will to try here was beaten. Before good sense and grief made me steady and old. Suddenly, that bed and that room and the entire universe filled up with light and purest joy.

Such elation, which I have only ever felt before God... my mind spun, and heart leaping above the world and sky, my soul was still and knew... and now I remembered reading somewhere that feelings about God and sex originate in the same region of the brain...so, see, it all made sense and ohgodohgodohgodohgod.

And of course, none of it was true, but that was the dream I had.