(no subject)
Last night, after several weeks of her giving me consistent subliminal floggings, the Boss-Lady switched to hysterical hollering and childish mardies after I dared defend myself and point out that the work she was damning was hers, not mine (twenty-six word headlines, with exclamation marks. I ask you). Don't know what she expected, but she looked stunned that I didn't take any more of her baseless accusations lying down.
And how much did it rile her that I didn't holler back - shooting instead for an Oscar-nomination for my portrayal of Captain Placid from "Stiff Upper Lip"? Discovered later it was an exhausting role to take on, but it felt like a good choice as I witnessed her disgustingly undignified inner-ah lian emerge, doing a Medusa and vomiting illogic in porcine squeals.
Anyway, despite my keeping the volume down, self-preservation might have gone out of the window as I now recall uttering things like "I am sorry about that, but it's not my fault if you can't understand English". This, along with highlighting several uncomfortable truths about her methods to her, might have helped her decide that I now have one month to "get better" or I am out of here. Melly Christmas Mister Lawrence.
Slightly inconvenient this. I was hoping to get her moniker on my Permanent Resident application - which, uncannily enough, I was going to present to her last night. A thumbprint would do.
I could go to Immigration with her portion not filled in. And I could say "But my boss can't write". But it might not wash. Even if I provide them with just some of her email comments from yesterday (all of which turned out to be about her own work):
"these doesn’t works at all"
"can we go away with so many high sounding words"
"is their any other words to replaced it?”
"needs to twig" (ie. "Please tweak this")