'Surprise' they yelled..as I walked into her room...knowing why I was here and what they had planned...
She had put on a 'buffet.'
Deputy Chief was there...really good of her as she should have been in a meeting.
And I received a designer handbag.and a 'Thank You' card...
I'm not leaving; I'm just relinquishing. Yet she, Bitch, celebrated that tonight.
I don't know how to feel.
I know it will be hard.
I felt flat, deflated afterwards. I was expected to make some kind of speech and I could not say what I needed to say...I remained the professional.
Later, she bombarded me with emails (work- related) whilst sitting in the room next to me.
(Lonely and solemn brunette texts: 'Have you some time tonight?' He answers: 'yes.')
She has the panic effect..
Rippling her angst all the way down to the bottom of the pool; the ripple effect.
Collecting my beautiful, fractious children, I felt darker and gloomier. I felt still and flat...
Hitting rock bottom as I arrived home, the sunlight failed to warm me as I sauntered in the garden, tipping slightly in my heels, stomach sick from Buffet a la Bitch...
Husband home and I ask him if he minds I go to the cinema tonight...he is unusually suspicious. I ignore it.
Children fed and bathed and put to bed....
I stash My New Handbag into my wardrobe; it's still enveloped in a carrier bag.
