I had a crazy boss, once. we've all had 'em. you know, the ones with eyes like marbles. they're overly fussy about grooming and clothes. they wear you out with a droning pettiness that leaves a headache just beyond reach every afternoon at four.
my crazy boss kept going on and on about "collecting the lowest fruit." he couldn't bring himself to praise anyone's work, least of all mine. he needed to clear the phlegm out of his throat, but kept swallowing it instead. he gave mean performance reviews. it got to the point where my sphincter clenched every time he talked to me.
come to think of it, that place did not just have a crazy boss, but also a frenzied group of crazy employees. They loved to hold pointless meetings, meetings where I sat and watched dust motes jogging near the window, wishing I were dead. we've all been there, right? the craziness can spread like an oil slick, so you have to get out. and when I got out I never went back to work for a crazy boss again. I took a course in collage and am now part of the gig economy.
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