Definition

So, last night at work was the first time I had to work, really, with this particular woman (no nick yet) after *the incident.*

The good news is, no one knows what exactly happened there, which is good--not because I'm embarrassed or ashamed, I just hate the Jr. Hi politics and I despise being talked about behind my back. To clarify: I don't care if you talk about me, but have the balls to say it to my face, or own up to it if I hear it otherwise; unfortunately, most people I work with simply do not have balls. Especially not the men, but I digress.

So, she seemed fine--no harm no foul--UNTIL I got a good look at the break board and starting doing my free-lance busywork thing. I was on the self checkouts (a sign of the apocalypse if you ask me). A boring place to be--and one attracts more stupidity and weirdness than usual.

I get it into my head that I will actually collect garbage and sweep. I need to find a push broom or a dust mop. I've done the sweeping gig with a regular broom and, uh, never again. I prefer to clean the toilets.

I also have to go on a fruitless search for garbage bags. I cover everywhere that they may be before I announce that there are none, and I need to pull some. I get the okay from Frodo, mostly because this woman isn't available for me to let her know.

After that, I got several passive-aggressive remarks about how much I talk. Sure, I talk a lot, but man, it's not like I was talking religion or politics. I was telling funny stories about the Weirdness Goddess I am. Nothing mean, either, just the conversational, observational ones.

I have narrowed down the problem--but at least now, I know what to watch for. *sigh* I really do not want to do this again.