When I got back to my desk, I noticed I was still shaking. I continued to seethe from all the anger. I couldn’t help it. I just had to let the fire out lest I explode.
Heaving like a bull, I managed to say over my shoulder, “F****s… I don't appreciate how I end up cleaning your mess!!!” My voice had deepened in its timbre, always a sign that I was dead-serious.
“Usap nga tayo…” [Let’s talk], she said with heightened concern as she rushed to my desk. I could sense her defenses were up. I was angry. The doors had been opened. I couldn’t wait to unleash my lions so that I can put the bitch in her place.
I repeated what I said just in case she was that dumb and she didn’t get what I meant.
“Is it just the client today?”
“No. It’s not just the client today. It’s the way you work and how I constantly put back into order the mess you’ve made.”
“What else am I doing wrong? Tell me.” I hated how forward she became. I hated that she sat right in front of me, shoving her ugly self in my space. She got too close to the remaining shred of patience I held dearly. I imagined uprooting the computer monitor and bashing it on her head.
“What else?! Your issues with communication! You seem to relay incomplete information to the people around you. Case in point, the client today! He wouldn't have come to the office if the stuff you told him on the phone was complete!...Other cases?! The admin assistants in the past. They'd always tell me how you would give them incomplete instructions. And when they’d ask a question, binabara mo sila! [you’d interrupt them!]… You interrupt me!”
"Let me finish."
“You’re doing it again!”
“You’re doing it again!” God, how dumb can this bitch be?!
“I do not appreciate that you keep interrupting me when I’m speaking!,” I blurted out, raising my voice even louder to shut her up. I continued, “Even the printers have told our boss that they hate coordinating with you kase ang gulo mo! [because you’re such a mess!]”
I still couldn’t stop shaking. My stomach was beginning to ache. I could feel the bile rise up my esophagus. I wanted to end the heated discussion lest I put to reality the violence running through my head.
“That’s it!” I said. “I don’t want to continue anymore!”
“Why? Keep telling me what I’m doing wrong.”
I had reached my tether. My voice boomed. Facing her, I spat out: “Can’t you see that I can’t talk right now?!! I am angry, my hands are shaking, and I just can’t continue talking to you!!!”
God, how dumb can this bitch be?!, I thought again. Instead, with all the energy I could muster, I controlled myself and answered, “Because I might say something regrettable!”
But she just wouldn’t let go.
“You have to tell me everything else.” Her voice had now shrunk to a squeak...(to be continued)