seethe

Facebook is nice and all, but I like blogging when I've any more than two sentences to say.
In this case, I have considerably more.

I am extremely upset right now, and so whatever I'm typing is not being filtered apart from the usual grammar screening - and even that is not at its best now because of this all-consuming anger. And yes, the one person I could count on to listen to my rant and to help me calm down is out gallivanting merrily somewhere far away, hence my desperate resort of turning to my blog. I'll probably talk his ears off later, but who the hell cares about his ears.

So. I'm not happy.

Why. Because I just spent the better part of two hours working on something I was told to do, and at the end of it I was told none too politely how it wasn't needed after all. I did not enjoy working on it, I have much better things to fill my time with, I tried hard to do it well. I finished it, turned it in with relief and was hanging around to watch for a reaction. Oh, I got one all right. I got one of utter puzzlement, together with a question of "What is this?" and then a titter of humiliating amusement, followed by a declaration of my work's redundance.

Also. I obviously got angry, I said fine, and I promptly disposed of my work. And how insulting, then, to be told that I was throwing a tantrum simply because my work was unusable. But was that not my point precisely? Why keep it when it is useless? To remind me of this incident, to needlessly anger myself in the future? And now the antagonist in question is pointedly pretending nothing happened, daring even to give me more work to do. The nerve. The sheer bloody nerve of it.

Who. There's only one person who would do something like that to me whom I would not have punched immediately.

See, there's no way I could've said this in any satisfactory manner on Facebook.