My supervisor could trade in laundry soap for soap opera stardom.

My supervisor could have a TV career … and doesn’t even know it!

I work in housekeeping. The vomit sticks in my throat to write that but there the hard cold reality is. My supervisor is, among other things, a drama queen. She has a deep need to create conflicts and adversarial relationships where there are none and to exert control inappropriately.

I could write more; of course I could write more, that’s what natural writers do, they observe probe and analyze character. For today’s purposes, the introd description suffices.

By the alarm portrayed by my supervisor, you’d have thought I hadn’t a spray bottle, rag and bristle brush to apartment 218, which I deep-cleaned over the weekend!

Her rush to judgment and critical air were unfounded and unfair; I had indeed put elbow grease, ardently, to the place. An inspection by the two of us revealed a few spots undone — because I didn’t know to do them!

And the light switch, coincidentally that very light switch pictured in the prior post! A close inspection showed a little dirt embedded in the OFF/ON letters.

I rectified that with cleaner and stiff brush and bringing my bespectacled eyes to within a half inch of the switch so I didn’t miss a thing.

It isn’t that I missed a little bit of dirt in the ON/OFF letters, it’s that my supervisor launched an attack without justification or fairness, accused me of not cleaning an apartment when the opposite was true; and when her misjudgments were exposed by the light of inspection, no apology was forthcoming.

And all the excellent work I had done, the elbow grease I had so diligently applied, nada. Drama queen with a chip on her shoulder and a proclivity to diminish and undermine others. Not an attractive personality.

This among a number of other ongoing issues and incidences (not for public consumption) collectively spotlight the need to move outward and onward. NOT to jump from the frying pan into the fire of another shit menial minimum-wage job, a path much too long, but rather step into a whole new path of purposeful, meaningful and prospering work. (And y’all know what that is so there’s no need to repeat.)

For the record, my supervisor is not a bad person. As far as supervisors go, she is no V.A., who’s in the Hall of Fame of Bad and Cruel Bosses. She is unfit to be supervisor; in fact, I’m better suited to the role! but that’s neither here nor there.

It’s astounding the prevalence of people in “leadership” roles who have no business being there. Our world is a fucked-up irrational unreasonable and unreasoned one where losers win and winners lose and on it goes and nowhere is this more evident than in companies and corporations!

Alas, I digress. I’m developing a dislike of my supervisor! With her, you never know what you’ll get from day to day or moment to moment. A good mood, an unfair attack or drama created from thin air, like the proverbial rabbit outta the hat. You just can’t say.

Meanwhile, after my supervisor’s ridiculously dramatic display, this much I can say: When this job’s in the rear-view mirror — and if I have my druthers, it shall be, very soon — I’ll never look at drama queens – or the world’s light switches – with passing glances again!