Failure

Woe is I the repeat offender of frailer. Fixated only on perfection, has lost her vision and ability to perform. Nothing makes since and all is wrong in her ever shrinking world. What she thought she had a grip on is now, just a mess of confusion. The only thing that she can take comfort in is 42. Yet, how do you apply 42 to a soon to be Written Corrective Action?  Shale I beg for forgiveness as I have every time before? Admit defeat before the battle even begins? After all, this is a corporate monster, and I am no Joan of Arc. Yet, they will burn me at the stake none the less. I obsess over what is asked of me and somehow forget the rest of everything. I am a one trick pony that beats a dead horse with a stick of recklessness. Open, blunder, repeat. Open, blunder, repeat. If I wasn’t so easy to hate why would they keep me around? As a woman I should have far less of an opinion and more cleavage. That trick won’t work either, as I work amongst and under other women that scratch at the same man made glass ceiling. Fear is what I fear the most at work, not getting fired. The tense stress and anxiety that builds and eats me from the inside out, and the ever lingering smell of dirty money is what haunts me as I wait to be “spoken with”. I know you’re not mad, you’re just disappointed. If I knew what was coming other than the spine chilling, creepy feeling of dread that fallows me even into my sleep, this wouldn’t be so bad. How would they have any control if we didn’t fear them? Fear is respect right?