Sunday, June 26, 2005

A nice day which turned out to be horrible

Listening to: Fish Leong - Wo Shi Huan
Feeling: Warm!

Another lazy Saturday, woken up by Kay at the most ungodly hour, 12.30pm. One should have a rule about not waking up till 1pm on the weekend :p. Very uneventful. Was sleeping the whole day. I am such a pig.

Dreading to go back to work on Monday because of something that happened on Friday.

Had a shouting match with the Hitler on Friday... *Who is a bitch*.. Can't imagine my boss shouting at me for the most trivial of all trivial matters. He walks in late for my photo shoot (and he told me that he will bring props for me, and also the fact that he wants to use his idea and didn't tell me, walks in and just basically told me that what I had done for the past hour is useless), kills off my idea ("what you're doing is nothing anyway") and when I wanted to go for lunch, he asks me, "Aren't you having a photo shoot?". I was so pissed. And he has got the gall to tell me after saying that 'you better go rather than stay here and sulk'. I was at this point clenching my fist, willing myself not to punch him in the balls. It took some willpower.

And so I walked off, to collect my cigs and ask Jay for a smoke. He says wait for 5 mins, so I walked off for a smoke first. As I reached the ground floor and my hands were just about to hold the door knob to open the door, Hitler (who is standing at the 1st floor stair landing) called down at me

Hitler:'What time are you coming back?"

Me: I am gonna go have a quick one, at the pantry...

Hitler: *half shouting* Why are you so like that today? Why are you so agitated?

Me: What do you mean?


Me: Look asshole, *ok, the asshole part I've censored* why are you shouting like a child?


Me: *walks off*


Me: *imagines a fighting scene, a gong sounds and some deep manly voice says 'ROUND 1' and walks back in* I'll be back in half an hour *walks out of the door.... and cries*

I kept replaying the scene in my head and I hate it. Hate it for the fact that I have not done anything wrong and he had wrongly yelled at me. I can imagine the better part of the office had heard his part of the yelling match. And for those who had heard him would think that I have done something very wrong for him to yell at me like that.

Which I hate because he had always potrayed himself as a righteous person. Always helping people out and always saying the right things when actually he is a spiteful gay who thinks that thinks that the world owes him. He thinks everytime someone tells him something that is not right about him, it is a personal attack. When I told him after he said 'better go than to stay here and sulk' that if he wants to change the styling for that particular shoot he should have just smsed me or call me to say that he is late and just hold the shoot. Then I wouldn't be doing something useless and wasted the photographer's time and my time. Stupidasshole. Maybe being screwed at the back made him stupid. And a hypocrite. And a fucker. And a dumbass... UGH.. I can so fill the whole page with names for him. But I won't because I wouldn't stoop as low as he did.

So after walking out of the door, I called Sarah N to come down because we were supposed to have lunch together. Jay walks in and saw me crying and he asked why. Told him the whole story, Sarah N walks in, had to repeat the story, which was punctuated with lots of sniff, tears and mucus. After Jay left, continued talking to Sarah N and at one point cars drove past that little corner.

Hitler was in one of them and he saw me crying, he actually came down to confront me and it went like this:

Hitler: DO NOT CRY. Whatever it is, just go on with your intended shoot. Leave my stuff at the side and I will collect it later.

Me: You do not understand don't you? I am NOT upset about how the shoot was done! It is...

Hitler: *cutting me off once again* We will talk about this in our private session.

Me: *Whatever*

See how efficient this boss is to me? I am really angry at the fact that it is because of him that our deadlines are not met and he would still ask if we could close the mag by end of this week when he himself had not done his part. Oh man.. I think I should talking about him because the more I think about his Chinese face the more I want to go to where he stays and pour salt and sugar into his fuel tank. Or maybe put some rubber marks on his face.. UGh.. stop! If not I think my blood pressure will rise.

Sniff... To bed I guess, Sungai Wang tomorrow... I need retail therapy.

No comments: