Tuesday, June 16, 2009

3 Months

3 little months. I was positive I could avoid them for 3 tiny months, right? I swear I tried, I really did.

But they were there…staring at me from behind the glass at work. Every. Single. Day. Watching me, taunting me - each time I walked through the room. I couldn’t think of anything I had done to deserve this cruelty. I am a good person - I mind my own business – I do nice things for others. Yet, there they sat, day after day, mocking me. I was at my wits end. Not sure how much more of this I could handle before I lost my mind.

I started staying in my office, cooped up like a hermit crab. I could avoid them at work, but now they had begun following me all over the place. They showed up at sporting events I attended, concerts, even at Wal-Mart. Trying to humiliate me in public.

Finally, I had enough! I was going to do something about them once and for all! I plotted my revenge with endless possibilities. Each idea making me giddy with anticipation. The surge of excitement I felt demolished the anxiety over what I was about to do! So unlike me. I didn’t care if it was premeditated or not, as long as they were gone from my life, and everything could get back on track.

Shooting them wouldn’t work - it was too messy and would draw too much attention.

I could drown their little round heads, but not enough suffering in that!

Yes! I could go all Manson on them, chopping them into tiny little pieces, then feed them to the rats. THAT would make me feel great. Watching each and every last one of them suffer at my hand, while the others, lined up in a row, would have to watch!

It’s what they deserved after all. For making me suffer. All I had asked was 3. Little. Months.

I walked to the break room, making sure no one was around to witness my insanity. I slipped the gleaming butcher knife out of the drawer.

I waited for Ed to finish at the vending machine.

My heart sank as he turned and walked out of the room. The plotted vengeance would have to wait. Ed had the last of the bright yellow packets firmly in his tight little grip.

The M&M’s would not die by my hand this day.

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