simmering resentmentFurthermore, since that document turned out to be glitchy (wonky headings, all review options automatically switched to “show,” glacially slow), the Powers That Be have decided that I need more training, so they’re having V walk me through this new one. There are people who can give instruction without sounding like their next question is going to be something along the lines of “Do you need help tying your shoes?” or “Do you have to go potty?”; I’m not convinced that V is among them.
ETA: Also, as long as she’s hovering over my shoulder I can’t perform the sotto voce Yosemite Sam-esque “Rassum frassum” monologue that usually prevents my ire from building beyond a certain point. By lunchtime I seriously wanted to punch something.
