We used to meet every Thursday

It must be because it's Thursday. I've always viewed Thursday as the most sinister of days. It's when people seem to me to be the most irritable and there always seems to be much more of them about on that day-- the traffic is always heaviest, the lines are longer, etc. I don't know why Thursday sucks--maybe it's because it's so close to the weekend, but not quite--and I'm not going to give it anything close to a thoughtful examination. Fuck that, I need to unwind.

So today was a hot tempered one. To wit:

--Gio, on his way out of the showroom carrying a large fan, kicked the glass front door open SWAT team style on his way out. When he came back in I told him to please not kick the door again ( I should have fired him, but Karen seems intent on keeping him around, so hence my under-reaction). Gio didn't take too kindly to what I had to say and yelled "Are you kidding me? No one helped me open the door! That's it- tomorrow is my last fucking day! (How many times have we heard that one? Oh, if only he meant it) He then left in the pickup truck, blazing his way through traffic like the Duke brothers and running a red light in the process. Ryan told me Karen would tell us we should have opened the door for him. I told him she wouldn't dare, but when I called her , she went ahead and proved him right. I said "No, Karen, that's not right. Even if we should have helped, which I don't see how we could have because we were on the phone, it doesn't forgive the actions, the reckless actions, that he took. He could have put the fan down, opened the door with his free hands and then took the fan out, instead of pulling his Andy-fucking-Sipowitcz impersonation on our front door." Karen agreed and said she'd call him. I'm going to have to tell her that I cannot and will not work with that fucking psycho ever again. Should get interesting.

--Al came back real late from a delivery at the end of the day and because he had to get back into the building to pick up some table legs that he forgot to bring with him, I had to wait around until six thirty before I left. And when he arrived he was all worked up over having to go back to the job, saying he was doing us a favor by doing so, to which I replied " Yeah, but YOU FUCKED UP THE ORDER. That's why you're going back."

Some truths are not self evident.

Gio came back soon after, and the four of them--Gio, Larry, Al, and John-- had a loud gripe session outside the front door. I could hear Gio through the glass telling the guys about the door incident. I was by myself, in the midst of four wolves who were hungry for blood, and if I didn't get out of there soon, they would corner me and feast on my upper-management flesh. I ducked out of there unscathed, but I'm telling you, a reel of me-fighting-my-ass-outta-there footage was looping in my head. Let's just say that in my little film-short, I didn't exactly come out the victor in the exchange.

--Had to talk to Bob TV about his moving plans, the details of which I don't have the energy to go into. Maybe if you press me hard enough about it, I'll divulge, but for now just know that it was a huge discussion that culminated in a wounded Bob TV (emotionally speaking) and a worn out Kevin. That is precisely why I'm going to end this now. I'm going to unwind--maybe take a soak, do some reading, whatever--and then go to sleep.

Good night.