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Having Depression, Anxiety, and an Asshole Coworker

“On Monday she’s a bitch. On Tuesday she’s a bitch. On Wednesday though Saturday she’s a bitch. Then on Sunday just to be different she’s a Super King Kamehameha bitch!”

—Eric Cartmen, “Kyle’s Mom Is A Bitch”

Even though I hate my job, I get along with most of my co-workers. Keyword: Most.

One co-worker in particular has been detrimental to my mental health and my work. We’ll call her “Karen” because she’s every bit as entitled as the namesake suggests. Unfortunately, we both have the same days off so she’s there every day I work unless she calls in.

Karen used to work manager at a fast food restaurant for many years before coming to the retail store I work at. She still seems to have the mentality that she’s in charge despite having literally zero authority over anyone. We both work in Fresh. I work behind the food service counter as a cake decorator while she works in front of it stocking the pre-made goods for the Fresh areas. We have different jobs—I’m part of Fresh food production and she’s part of the stocking team.  That hasn’t stopped her from trying to boss people outside of her area when management isn’t around or swooping in to take over when we’re short staffed instead of focusing on her own job.

She also likes to get away with anything she wants. We’re not supposed to have anything other than water in our area. She not only brings her coffee, but dumps it in my counter’s hand washing sink at the end of the day and then doesn’t bother to clean it. We’re also not allowed to have things like purses and jackets behind the counter. She not only brings her purse, but she sets it on top of my edible image printer or my shelving for edible image supplies. And don’t get me started on her fucking cardboard cart that she pushes wherever she wants without regard for safety or being in someone’s way—I tripped over it and nearly dropped a customer cake because of it recently and my leg hurt for the rest of the day. My anxiety and frustration to skyrocket because of her even though I go through the proper steps with management to remedy the situation and try my best not to let it get to me.

People have quit because of her. One coworker had worked under Karen at the fast food joint and quit when Karen started working in our store and in our area. The best person I trained for cake decorating ended up developing arthritis, but I learned later she had told another coworker she would have pushed through it if it weren’t for the way Karen treated her and bossed her around.

For a while, she kept referencing Green Eggs and Ham because a character in the book is also named Sam. I don’t like the book as it is for that very reason and having her say “Sam I Am” every fucking day was beyond irritating. At one point she found out my middle name so she kept calling me by my legal name of “Samantha Renee” until I couldn’t stand it anymore and got management to step in. I hate being called “Samantha” even more than I hate hearing “Sam I Am”. There’s two people allowed to call me by “Samantha” and one of them certainly isn’t an entitled jerk that thinks she’s still managing a McDonald’s.

The worst thing about her was that she threw some of my pictures away. If you read my introductory blog, I used to doodle on my To Do lists at work to feel better and I saved some of them to hang up at work. One day, the doodle I had up of Rick Sanchez from Rick and Morty disappeared. I thought, “That’s odd.” I put up a doodle re-enacting the laughing scene from Final Fantasy X (Fun fact: Karen kept telling me to smile until I kept imitating Tidus’ awkward laugh in response). When that drawing disappeared, too, I figured the first one wasn’t a fluke or an accident and I had a suspicion that it was her doing it. I hung up the Katamari Damacy doodle that inspired this blog.

 

Two days later, a few days before Christmas, it was gone. Only this time my other coworker told me that Karen was by my counter that morning when the doodle was still there and then later noticed the doodle was gone. It occurred to me to go look in the trash and there was the Prince of All Cosmos looking up at me from the bottom of the trash can with his message of “Don’t Worry Do Your Best”.

She had been throwing my drawings away. Even if she didn’t understand their significance in assisting with my mental health, that’s still fucked up of her to throw away something that someone else had made and was theirs (even if they were crappy little drawings). She wouldn’t like it if her purse or her coffee thermos went missing……….no, I didn’t make her things disappear into the garbage, but I’ll admit the fantasy has crossed my mind.

Fuck you, Karen.

 

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