You know the ones, don't you? Where you've either dropped me back home, knowing fully well that despite my calm, drunken assurance that I'll just be a moment before I pick up my passport and come back down so we can head to the airport (and fly away gloriously into an adventure), I'm going to curl up on my sofa, shoes on, spittle clinging gently to my chin and a bucket under my head, just in case, forgetting all about you.
Or where I insist that you leave the house at 3 am after a rowdy racuous argument, and then proceed to meticulously snip the buttons off each of your shirts and dump them on the stairwell in a fit of controlled rage.
Or where I hide your glasses and go away to a party and switch my phone off, because in that moment of pique, immaturity offers the best shield under which I can hide my frustration.
Or where, well, you get the picture.
And the sheepish call. Where I don't really say, I'm sorry bloggy, I left you thinking it was the sophisticated and adult thing to do, but in the harsh, hungover, light of day, its a bit petty, what?
Yep.
***
Veiled apology to bloggy apart, for the first time, gentle reader, I realised what it was like to have someone actively and clearly try to screw me over. While one part of me was scrambling for evidence, and writing emails saying things like "this is without prejudice to the other rights under the Retainer Agreement" and calling up lawyer-friends for legal advice and forcing them to send me bills, the other part of me was like:
1) "huh. look at that. you're getting screwed over. huh. interesting.this is what it actually feels like."
2) "clearly all the times you had to forgoe your morning flatwhite + chocolate croissant for a wonderfully exciting meeting was not actually a screw-over. huh"
3) "being asked to do timesheets was not a screw-over. huh"
4) "being paid in full without any dicking around on leave entitlements was not so routine as I thought. huh"
5) "so this is what being treated like a worthless piece of crap actually means. huh"
After a couple of fairly traumatic weeks, where I had to question self-worth, other people's worth, wish I had a chief minister aunt/uncle hidden away somewhere, make long-distance and short-distance advice seeking phone calls and draw up a vindictive game-plan, things finally ended in the most practical/unexciting manner yesterday. And it ended because I had the foresight to set up a smoking gun.
And I'll say this - no amount of literature on power-dynamics, or societal structures analysis or gyan on drafting contracts, or understanding dispute-resolution strategies could have given me the kind of learning I had in the last few weeks.
I feel like I left bruised but a winner, though not as much win as I'd like. Ah well.
***
Though its been advanced by a couple of months, I'm finally, actively, totally and unresistingly entering into a super-scary phase of life - the I AM JUST CHILLING AND NOT WORKING AT ALL UH HUH THAT'S RIGHT phase.
Not only am I be completely free to do whatever I want, I am also doing this with
no lifeboat/gameplan in mind for the future. Exciting in the scariest possible way! YAY!
As much as I hate you uncertainty - looks like we're going to have to become great friends - so let's get a move on.
As Day 1 of chill phase - I have woken up late, had a domestic argument, watched the most recent episode of Big Bang Theory and eaten cold pizza for lunch. I may or may not nap now. I have a feeling this is going to be fun! Await my despatches from the front.
I have the honour to remain
Your most truly obedient servant
Spaax
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