Friday, September 21, 2007
What do these hideous shoes have in common with my sickening boss, the Devil Wears Payless? They are both made of viper snake ard neither are worth $499.99.
I wish I could adequately describe the week that ended on Thursday with us in a shouting match, but it's just been more of the same shit, only deeper and shittier.
See, my one year anniversary is coming up in two weeks and DWiP has obviously been trying to drive me over the edge so the sadistic twit can work me over the coals and try to palm off a pissy 2% raise on me.
Fortunately, the CEO had come to my office on Tuesday morning and said the Board of Directors loved my magazine, he said he loved it too, and he wanted to tell me how glad he was to have me on his staff.
Seizing the opportunity, lest he think my post-review complaints were sour grapes, I shut my office door in case the DWiP was eavesdropping and said to him, "I love my job, my co-workers, our readers and you, but I may have to quit."
"WHAAAAT?" he replied.
Then I told him that DWiP was the most miserable supervisor I've ever had in my 30+ years in the workforce. I described some of her petty, micro-managing, vindictive, piece of shit maneuvers, told him I'd covered for her for far too long, and said unless the situation changed soon, I'd have to leave.
He listened with rapt attention and said he'd have to take what I said under advisement. Then he patted my shoulder, told me to give him some time to think and left my office.
Apparently, the DWiP intuited what was going on and proceeded to behave like a perfect bitch toward me for the next two days, using the silent treatment and ignoring my e-mails
By Thursday afternoon she had mashed so many of my buttons, I got fed up and told her to either get off my back or fire me. And if she planned to fire me, I told her she better come up with some pretty good excuses for losing what I've been told is the best magazine editor in the 155-year history of the company.
By the time things got really heated, she actually put her hands over her ears and wailed, "I'm not listening."
Yes, just like a 3-year-old. I just laughed, muttered, "You're unbelievable," left the office and drove home.
So today, I showed up at the office about 10:30 after covering a press conference downtown. DWiP was at some meeting somewhere, but I immediately met with the Operations Manager to get a sense of the blow-back.
"Am I gonna get fired?" I asked.
"No," she said, "She's gonna write you up for insubordination."
Yes, at age 54, I am getting my first-ever insubordination citation.
And the DWiP, whose reputation for being a horrible bitch of a boss is legendary, thinks she's gonna get by with it.
I plan to lodge a formal grievance against her and take it all the way to the top.
If the CEO fails to remove me from her sadistic supervision, I plan to take it to his bosses on the Board of Directors and lay it on the line, warts and all.
I make my living as a writer and editor, and the grievance I'm planning to write will be a masterpiece in concise, ass-kicking narrative.
I'll cap it off with the fact that she's become so self-aggrandizing, she's been forcing me to run more photos of her in my magazine than anyone else in the company. And all they'll have to do is check.
Game, set, match.