Colorado. Runner. Yogi. Fucking hilarious, like, 17% of the time.

bubble bubble

My boss thinks I'm a witch. At the very least, he thinks I'm capable of giving the evil eye.

Last year I got a not so stellar review, and it was 100% his fault. No, really. I didn't do a single thing wrong, I swear. Last night, a friend from work told me he’d heard that that I wasn’t doing so well again. Not only does this mean that the actual hard work I’m doing is either going unnoticed or unappreciated, it means that my boss is talking to other people about it instead of me.

Obviously, the only possible explanation for this strange state of events is that he’s frightened of me. Since I’m teeny tiny, quite ladylike (shutUP), and ten years his junior, he clearly isn’t frightened of me physically. Since I’m always polite and sweet, he isn’t frightened of me emotionally.

The only possible remaining solution is that he thinks I have magic powers. Since I’m obviously not a unicorn or a narwhale, the only remaining option is witch.

It explains so much! He doesn’t look at me or talk to me unless it’s absolutely necessary – evil eye fear. He always lets me talk very first when we’re doing round table meetings – he doesn’t want to anger me. He sometimes makes a cross with his fingers when I walk by – that probably needs no explanation.

I’m sorely tempted to leave some dirt on the floor of his office, and then just casually mention that I was in a graveyard the night before. I’m not a witch, and I’m not even sure that would make sense if I was, but he wouldn’t know the difference either. He’d probably try to call a priest, and then I could have Crockett dress up in a … priest neck thing… and then Crockett could tell him that once a lil ladylike witch has you in her sights the only sure way of distracting her is with a promotion.

This plan is foolproof.

the following takes place between 9:30 am and 9:45 am

give us stubble burn once and we may never kiss you again