I swear! Buncha babies! It seems as you get older, the tendency to gossip in cliques and then "hate" on others, doesn't go away. I wonder if it is because I work alone, that I am the outsider. I think I've always been different, and that's why I work alone. Why would I care how you wear your hair? It's hot. Stay cool. It's a job. Safety first. I am supposed to look to you for guidance, yet you keep me in the dark and claim me a narcissist. Yeah. Sorry. Not sorry.

If you won't work with me, I'll work on my own. You call it pride. I call it sanity. While two of you decide who will screw in the bulb, I'll have swapped it and moved on. Some things just don't need discussion. Like who should we have change the lightbulb....anyone can do it! It's only a lamp on an end table! It is also working now. Move on. But NO, it just can not be that simple! Must we create additional work for ourselves if we become too efficient? I don't think so. I use my spare time to write songs about jello and...GASP! I am bitching! Time to go home. Later bitches. Have fun spinning your wheels.