I used to work for a woman that was not a nice person. She treated people horribly and seemed to take pleasure in it. She was the worst boss I ever had and if I hadn’t been a single Mom, without a college degree at that time, I would have quit way before I finally did. I watched her and the other “bosses” fire people for no reason, belittle people and accuse people of stealing. That was something they did all the time. They would even call the police and have the people escorted out by the local police. None of the people actually stole anything, as a matter of fact they were some of the most honest hardworking people I have ever had the privilege to know. I was so stressed out by the working conditions at this job that I made myself physically sick. The day I drove away for the last time was one of the best days of my life.
We all made fun of her. It helped to relive some of the stress. She wasn’t only really mean, but she was really weird too. Her makeup and clothes reminded us a lot of Mimi from the Drew Carey show. She almost always had lipstick on her teeth, and no one would ever tell her. Looking back now I can understand that she was a very unhappy person, who not only took out her unhappiness on others, but built herself up the best she could, by tearing other people down.
I ran into her a couple of times after I left, the first time, I said hello, she said it first and I didn’t want to be rude, so said it back, but looked away immediately and made it clear there would be no further communication. The second time was years after the first, I was with my new husband as so far removed that life, that I looked right through her, like I never even saw her.
Fast forward another five years and I heard from an old friend. They wanted to let me know that she had taken her own life. It hit me kind of hard. I felt really sorry for her and realized even more how unhappy she must have been and wondered if she realized how much she was disliked. I contemplated going to the funeral, but decided not to. I felt it would be phony. Her being gone, didn’t change who she was, or how I felt about her. It felt weird though. I felt like I was wrong somehow for not going. I knew deep down that I wasn’t though. It didn’t feel right being around people that loved her, and mourned her. I did send a mass card. I did feel that she deserved prayers. I prayed for her family as well as her soul.
It really put things into perspective for me. I have been much more aware at what a truly blessed life I do have.
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