For the past year or so, I have been very sincere in regards to the growing contempt I foster for my current job. Detailing the particulars in very forthright and earnest manner, in an attempt to liberate some sense of catharsis from the whole ordeal. This blog, originally intended as a source for obscure gaming eccentricity, has swiftly descended into a journal documenting my slump into melancholy. But the rate at which my patience to endure my job is being tested, has elevated with such consistency that it may as well be written into my contract.

The provocation for this current entry was a verbal altercation with a supervisor. A boorish, narcissistic oath, with all wit and humility of a Trump speech. The kind of guy that would pick a fight with someone weaker than them to demonstrate his superiority. Though only really succeeding in exposing his insecurities. An already established buffoon amongst the collective faculty, elevated to a position of power through intimidation, “working” extra hours and being loud. But he also commands the loyalty of a small contingent of impressionable youngster’s who frankly don’t know any better. In any case, I have low tolerance for the blustering of a deranged megalomaniac. Particularly one looking to rile up other employees.

The specifics of our now venerated dispute are immaterial really. Just the mundane office politics that pivoted into the agitated ramblings of an egotist losing control. Fundamentally it was a discourse concluded with an intermediary and begrudging handshake. Nothing that a enough time and aggressive music couldn’t placate. But when I reflect on it now, what angers me most isn’t the antagonistic nature of the exchange, but that I even felt compelled to retaliate at all.

The trouble is when someone comes at me with such indignant ferocity, I resist. In much the same way as a cliched movie President will dramatically declare that he won’t comply with terrorists demands; I don’t negotiate with bullies. But my defiance provided little advantage, only succeeding in feeding his delusion and bolstering his considerable hubris. While at the same time etching a permanent scowl across my face. With the rest of my body reciprocating that grimace, feeling taught and tense.

This is the kind of place where this hyper masculine behaviour is encouraged, nurtured and propagated. He is a product of an environment he himself has fostered. But at the end of this all I can leave this place. Safe in the knowledge that as soon as I inhale that fresh air, any festering agitation will be relieved. A grievance only further mitigated by listening to one of my daughter’s many hilarious anecdotes and observations. With the only lingering memory of the whole sordid affair, being pity for a man so desperate for validation that he would deliberately instigate an argument to make himself feel superior. Sad.