Manic Depressive Boss

A million years ago, I had this female boss who was more than just a little bit Manic Depressive.  She was a real roller coaster.  This was in the good old days that most you youngsters don’t remember, when mental health drugs and treatment were not mandatorily covered by health insurance.

So this one day, she started berating me loudly in front of everyone for not much of anything, and I can’t slap the bitch because she’s my boss and she’s a little bit dangerous looking when she’s in that stage between her manic ups sliding into her depressive downs.  So I say “I have to use the restroom” and just walk away.  And she just follows me, still ranting and raving, all the way down the hall.  And I enter the men’s room, and the bitch Follows Me, so I go on to the urinal because I really do need to piss and I start taking care of business, and she raises her screeching up another full octave.

“I can’t believe you have the nerve to do that! How dare you urinate in front of me!”

“I can’t believe you have the nerve to follow me in here!  You have absolutely no right to treat me like this!”

“I’m your Boss I can treat you however I feel is appropriate!”

“You most certainly do NOT!” and I turn towards her as I say this, because I’m completely insane with anger myself by now, and I’m ready to get face to face with the bitch no problem, except I forget that I’m mid-stream and end up pissing all down her leg.

I got a verbal reprimand.  She had no formal action taken against her, since she was a supervisor and happened to be a long time employee and good friends with many of the managers who had long ago learned to overlook her insanity, but she was encouraged to take some of her hoarded vacation leave and perhaps take a few months off and go away somewhere until she either got some help or killed herself, which she did (got herself a big-ass Valium prescription, not killed herself).

 

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