I woke up this morning with Bill over me, softly asking if I was going to work. For a split second, I thought I had overslept but I hadn’t. Then he told me of a water main break when a couple of blocks away which meant for low water pressure if there was any water at all.

I shuffled through the apartment, doing what it is that I do. Jumped in the shower and there was water, normal pressure. Everything seemed fine even with helicopters overhead reporting on the morning shows.

These hundred year old pipes underground just keep breaking and no one can figure out why. I say this because once a year they seem to tear up the street in front of our building to replace something or install something that is more recent than one hundred years.

Today is Tuesday. It was almost a good day. I get an attendance list every morning and the report this morning was Verschlossene Matrone being out. It meant that the day would be easy going, no need to fear about getting stabbed or shot by der Putz mit Salmonellen.

La légumineuse didn’t seem to be around either. But she sometimes does that. It’s good to be Queen and I should know about that, shouldn’t I? Verschlossene Matrone did appear, much like eczema. The knot in my stomach appeared along with a sense of dread.

A lawyer and I had a nice conversation about how Verschlossene Matrone has so much to lose. So much to lose to perhaps test the boundaries. “Can I really call someone ‘bullshit’ and challenge them to a fight? And loudly yell it out so nearby workers can hear?”

Apparently it can.

Despite it’s progeny attending a quite expensive school would it be worth risking it all because someone you don’t like, exists? Der Verschlossene Matrone can do just that AND get away with it with absolutely no repercussions. It must be nice to be such a vile, evil queen. Intentional lowercase at that!

Dwell dwell dwell, I know but it is foremost in my mind and the potential threat is sometimes in front of me or hovering around my desk.

In all my years of working, almost 50 years, there has never been an occasion where a coworker threatened to fight me.

I did engage with some of the clients today. One gent, named Tommy Mazzola was a lot of fun. Eight years older and probably a right winger, still we connected. Mainly about the problems with today’s society, i.e. young people. He has kids and I don’t and he really unloaded on his daughter-in-law that he cannot stand.

He realized that it’s not his life and stands aside, biting his tongue. It was a fun chat though he was anxious to get out of there and I could certainly relate to that. Then there was Sheila and Allen. A couple from Brooklyn who were a little bit older than me but I can never really tell these days.

They weren’t as forthcoming as Tommy Mazzola but still, there was a connection that drew raised eyebrows when I replied to them coming from Brooklyn as coming from Long Island. I was busy engaging them and my break time approached but I was not going to leave them in the lurch.

Nothing would be lost if I left for my break a few minutes later and that was appreciated by one of the higher ups in this fine, fine organization.

That was typed with tongue firmly in cheek and middle fingers hunting and pecking on a keyboard, or la langue fermement dans la joue et les doigts du milieu chassent et picorent sur un clavier.

Today was harrowing. Lots of stress. Invaded my sleep and dreams. Woke up troubled. Heaviness all around. Dreading going to the office despite telling myself that it’s a Monday and not so bad with fewer people around. The blinders are off though and I see Mohnki Cee Mohnki Dew for what they are.

Reading the Glassdoor reviews certainly helped with removing the rose-colored glasses. It is quite an insular place. People have been there for years and want to maintain the status quo.

I suppose the Legume regrets hiring me. It did seem like a good idea at the time and for a while there, it was. People leave, people change and I think they don’t know what to do with me. I’m not like anyone else and that causes problems.

I do have something that resembles intelligence and that is certainly in short supply. I’m certain that it cannot be found in the supply room so ordering it from la matrone enfermée dans le placard would not do anyone any good.

If I needed supplies rather than being in any way that could be considered beholden to la matrone enfermée dans le placard I would go to Target during my break time and buy them there or order them through Amazon.

I did mention that to Barbara Shorten who said I should expense that, as if they would be OK with me ordering things that are readily available in what Dante described centuries ago. Does the Legume read this I wonder? I’m sure that regarding the Legume, she must have other things to think about.

The belling of the cat works wonders and I should write a thank you note to Aesop. Those who know will know. Bill has been my rock, my knight in shining armor. He would like to cross paths with someone he will never meet if I can help it.

I did want him to meet the Legume but that was when things were happier when she and I were amiable. Everything has changed, everything has an expiration date.

Sidebar- A coworker who I disagree with about things that are political was stunned when I told him about the events of last week. He suggested contacting OSHA as well as Leticia James, while also suggesting suing Mohnki Cee Mohnki Dew.

That would be a tall order though as they do own the house and the house almost always wins. They have resources I don’t have, but I do have a winning smile and a quick wit which they do not possess.

Then there’s the election. I’m frightened by this election year. I could have sworn in 2004 that John Kerry would win and we know that didn’t happen. I have a slim hope that L’Orange Merde will go down in flames but I think I learned something in 2004 and that is a lot of people are really stupid.

Not that I’m super intelligent, but I think I’m smarter than most of them. And it’s not just the national election. Being in the tri-state area, we get the worst TV ads for the worst people in other states.

Oh, it’s awful. And while we won’t be seeing those TV ads after November 5, L’Orange Merde seeded the field with mistrust of the systems that worked just fine until the shithead rode down that escalator that Dante should have described. Maybe he did. I have never read The Inferno.