fiddle dee dee

i despise him.

it's impossible to hold respect for a boss whose hands are shaky from all the booze and whose nose is constantly runny from all the blow. to catch him walking out of the men's room or a storage area in mid-super-sniff. to see him at the bar on his days off, nearly incapable of speech. to see him the next day, eyes so glassy and face so blotched and puffy, i refuse to contemplate what and how much was ingested. to work for someone who takes it as a personal affront, and further as arrogant apathy, that i need an extra hour here or there to confront lawyers, bankers, irs agents or whichever snake of medusa's is slithering and hissing at me this month. (a few months back, he actually called me a drama queen. i happen to be in a period of shit storms, yes. but if i was at all royally pathetic, i'd be sobbing and under the covers more often than not, wouldn't i? not toiling away at slave wages, yet congenial to staff and guests, right?) to know he thinks i'm careless with his money, when frankly i'm more conscientious with his than mine most of the time. to constantly be eyed with suspicion, even though i behave scrupulously. (is he so paranoid that honesty actually confuses him?) to know he feels threatened by my experience working for chefs more talented and more famous than he ever will be. to know he feels secure only in the presence of toadies. to know he feels angry that the staff actually likes and respects me because, unlike him, i don't treat them like dogs, nor suffer from wild and unpredictable mood swings. to be told afterwards by salespeople that he chased them off and out with " get the fuck out if you don't have an appointment".

to be screwed time and again out of money owed.

recently i contacted our comptroller about my commission status, and he informed me i was owed several thousand. that certainly would come in handy right now. two days ago, i politely asked the gm to catch me up to date. like a compliant company gal, i volunteered that it could be paid in installments, since the chef has been on about cash flow. (even though he's just had his best month ever. EVER. is he just buying more blow with it then?)

although i'd made some half-assed forays, i had hoped to delay it until after the holidays. he decided no time like the present. he couldn't look me in the face, and immaturely refused to state a reason. he'd already packed my things, so i'm free.

it's sunny and warm outside, even though every forecast says clouds and showers all day. i'm going to lunch, and for today will do my best scarlett o'hara: "fiddle dee dee, i'll worry about it tomorrow."