Après avoir posté l’épître d’hier soir, j’ai vu que j’avais reçu un SMS sur mon compte privé de la part du supérieur du supérieur, me demandant à quelle heure s’était produit l’incident impliquant la surveillante dans le placard. J’ai répondu peu après 10 heures du matin, j’ai également dit au supérieur du supérieur que j’avais envoyé un courriel au directeur des ressources humaines à 10 h 18.

Je ne sais pas ce qu’il a dans sa manche. Je pensais qu’il y avait un dégel dans notre éloignement après notre tête-à-tête, mais je n’en suis pas si sûre. C’est lui qui me dit de ne pas faire confiance à cette personne et de l’éviter quand je trouve que celle à qui je ne fais pas confiance est très utile et que celle que je devrais éviter est amusante à aborder.

Soyons réalistes, la surveillante dans le placard a l’immunité. Dans n’importe quel autre endroit, si un employé criait qu’il voulait se battre avec quelqu’un d’autre, il y a de fortes chances que l’agresseur soit dans la rue. Dans cette entreprise, c’est « vous allez devoir éviter la matrone qui se cache désormais ».

J’ai plaisanté en disant que la matrone qui se cache et Smeagol savent où sont enterrés les corps. Smeagol ayant creusé les tombes. Soyons réalistes, mon temps est limité dans cette entreprise, même si je suis sûr que je pourrais déposer une plainte auprès de la commission du travail. Moi contre un cabinet d’avocats ! David contre Goliath !

Je vois tellement de choses qui ne vont pas dans l’entreprise, je vois des jeunes de vingt ans sortir pendant la journée, faire du shopping chez Target après avoir déjeuné pendant une heure et demie peu de temps avant. Je ne dis rien, car j’avais fait des choses similaires il y a 35 ans et personne ne m’avait dénoncé.

S’ils étaient intelligents (et ils ne le sont certainement pas), ils seraient amicaux avec moi et je pourrais leur donner des conseils ou les prévenir. L’un d’eux se dirige vers le superviseur du superviseur, tous deux rient d’une bêtise : « Tu as vu cette peinture sécher ? » « Oh mon Dieu, c’était tellement drôle » Beurk, beurk, beurk. Je suppose que Dumb reconnaît Dumb.

Bill est sur le chemin du retour, ce qui sera un soulagement car je pourrais me concentrer sur lui plutôt que sur le nombrilisme que j’ai tendance à faire quand je suis seule. Et c’est un nombril morne, rempli de désespoir et d’ennui. Nous pouvons nous installer dans notre routine de regarder Jeopardy ainsi que d’autres émissions que nous avions enregistrées plus tôt, sans parler des dizaines d’émissions qui ont été enregistrées ou marquées comme favoris.

C’est comme l’été ces derniers jours, assez chaud, entre 20 et 27 degrés. Même porter une veste cet après-midi pendant ma pause cigare était trop. Le soleil brillait alors que la terre tournait et avait le soleil à un angle différent. Un client et moi avons discuté des saisons aujourd’hui.

Il aime l’automne, j’ai exprimé mon dédain et ma résignation en pensant que je ne pouvais rien y faire. Peu importe où j’irais sur la planète, les saisons changeraient, même si je me demande si le changement est aussi fort si l’on vit à l’équateur.

After I posted last night’s epistle, I saw that I got a text on my private texting whatever from the Legume, inquiring about what time the event that involved la matrone enfermée dans le placard happened. I replied sometime after 10 AM, I also told the Legume that I had emailed the inhuman resources director at 10:18 AM.

I don’t know what he has up his sleeve. I thought there was a thaw in our estrangement after we had our one on one but I’m not so sure. He’s one to tell me, not to trust that person, and avoid this person when I find the one not to trust is quite helpful and the one I should avoid is fun to talk to.

Let’s face it, la matrone enfermée dans le placard has immunity. In any other place, if an employee yelled about how they wanted to fight someone else, chances are the aggressor would be out on the street. In this joint, it’s ‘you’re going to have to avoid la matrone enfermée dans le placard from now on.’.

I joked that la matrone enfermée dans le placard and Smeagol know where the bodies are buried. With Smeagol having dug the graves. Let’s face it, my time is limited at this company though I am certain I could file a claim with the labor board. Me against a law firm! David versus Goliath!

I see so much wrong in the company, I see twenty-somethings going out during the day, going shopping at Target after that had a ninety-minute lunch a short while before. I don’t say anything since I had done similar things 35 years ago and no one ratted me out.

If they were smart (and they most certainly are not) they would be friendly with me and I could give them tips or a heads up. One sidles up to the Legume, the two of them laughing about some inane thing, ‘Did you see that paint dry?’ ‘Oh my god that was so funny’ Yuk yuk yuk. I guess Dumb recognizes Dumb.

Bill is on his way home which will be a relief as I could focus on him rather than the navel gazing I am prone to do when alone. And it’s bleak belly button, filled with despair and ennui. We can settle into our routine of watching Jeopardy as well as other shows we had recorded earlier not to mention the dozens of shows that were recorded or bookmarked.

It’s like summer these past few days, quite warm, high 70s, low 80s. Even wearing a jacket this afternoon on my cigar break was too much. The sun was beaming as the earth rotated and had the sun at a different angle. A client and I discussed the seasons today.

He likes the autumn, I expressed my disdain and resignation that there was nothing I could do about it. No matter where I would go on the planet, the seasons would be changing, though I wonder, is the change that strong if one was living on the equator?

Today has been quite a day. Last night’s sleep wasn’t as easy as I had hoped. A dream about a nuclear disaster that was forthcoming as Bill and I were at the bottom of the hill at Gunther Avenue and Main Street in Lodi in the neighborhood where I grew up. Bill and me and maybe 2 children. We seemed to be waiting for the blast.

It was troublesome enough to wake me up. I got out of bed as a way to change the channel of my dreams as well as to lose some water. It was somewhat peaceful, for the rest of the sleep session. Once again I had gone to sleep earlier and so I woke up earlier and that gets me into the office a little bit earlier.

Everything was OK as the workday began except for a closeted matron who stocks things throughout the office. Now this guy did not like me from day one. I don’t know why. I tried to connect with him since we were going to be working together doing the post office run. It was my first day and the closeted matron was showing me the ropes.

As we headed back to the office I ran ahead to open the door for him and said, ‘Here you go, Boss’. To this the closeted matron replied by yelling ‘I AM NOT YOUR BOSS!’. I explained that it was merely a sign of respect. I call the guy who makes my salads ‘Boss’. I call many people who are not my boss, ‘Boss’.

But the closeted matron had his mind made up. I was trouble. I tried to think about what his problem was, it did seem a bit too familiar. It reminded me of meeting a closeted opera singer customer at Davidoff. The then assistant manager introduced us and the closeted opera singer could not get away from me fast enough.

The closeted opera singer was in the closet due to a large inheritance he would get should he marry a woman or when the person who had the money died.
Well, the closeted opera singer died in the closet.

It’s a closeted thing I guess. Those in the closet hate those who are out of the closet. Choices had been made and the closeted folk lived their lives in a lie. Some, like the closeted matron, might have even gone so far as to get married and have a kid to show their immediate world that there was no way they were homosexual, they’re married with a child!

Homosexuals can’t do that! For the past three years, it’s been rather strained between me and the closeted matron. If I’m in an elevator and the doors open for him to get in (since he pressed the elevator button to summon the elevator) he would see me and not get in.

If we were both waiting for the elevator, when the elevator would arrive he would not get in. Recently he had taken to coughing and not covering his mouth if we passed each other in a hallway. I’d keep walking, humming to myself, or laughing. Today that set him off.

He went a bit crazy. Yelling a strange cackle of a laugh. It all came to a head when he started doing that when we were both in a kitchen near some other workers. Then he started yelling, asking if I wanted to fight. He offered to fight me a few times, loud enough for the nearby workers to take notice.

I went back to my desk and he eventually showed up there, yelling at me to fight and doing the cackle. He said he was going to tell the inhuman resources director and I told him to tell her I said hi. I also said that he should get help which he heard me as saying that he should go to hell. There is no way I would upset those tormented souls in hell by sending the closeted matron there.

I fired off an email to the inhuman resources director, as well as the head of the company’s assistant. I did feel threatened and thought if this guy is like this right now, what would stop him from stabbing me or getting a gun and shooting at me? A few short meetings with the inhuman resources director (who asked for the names of coworkers who had heard this closeted matron’s outburst. The spoke up in my defense), and the Legume who seemed sympathetic and was on my side.

I certainly did not tell Schlomo the DKB, who the Legume agreed that he is lacking in managerial skills. The owner of the company, his assistant, and the Legume all had talks with the closeted matron.

Later in the day, I was told this information and that it would be best to not have anything at all to do with the closeted matron, and I would have no problem with that.