Bountiful Blessings

This morning was another gloriously beautiful late autumn morning with the full, beaver moon glowing until well after the sun had risen and mists floating up above the Tama River to create wonderfully serene scenes.

Pity the mess in my head can’t turn in a similar direction.

I’m a wreck. Over the past week, my boss has used her position of superiority to abuse me, sometimes publicly, for not using bold text, using the “wrong” font (in internal documents), directly addressing her in an email instead of just cc’ing her and blasted for not delivering work I was never supposed to deliver in the first place. Of course, this is all part of an orchestrated campaign to drive me out of the company “of my own volition,” instead of having the company tell me to go and risk tarnishing its reputation as a good employer (which hasn’t been my experience over the past few years, regardless of how grateful I am to them for helping us to get through the pandemic).

Still, it’s a situation largely out of my control. I’ve sought the aid of labor authorities, who can do nothing for me, and a union, who won’t do anything, so an attorney looks to be the only way out. In the meantime, I am documenting everything, including the telephone calls where I am abused in a banshee-like, shrill scream for the most minor indiscretion and ordered to stop asking questions amid accusations of being “provocative.”

If there were somewhere else to go, I would certainly be considering it, but I am not exactly Mr. Popularity in the workforce, and I am painfully aware of being over-educated and under-skilled: effectively unskilled in the current workforce.