Ummmm...I'm telling mom......

Ok just when I thought I had slipped into some sort of comfortable you don’t exist agreement with my roommate yet again she reminds me why I would rather eat dirt and shove splinters under my fingernails than be in this job. I mean I have had bikini waxings less painful than this, and with far better benefits. So I come in and open my email and find that she had written the following to our boss regarding a task that was given to me the previous day by MAJ, which I was supposed to pass along the results of to my roommate the following morning…

“MAJ Such and Such, LT Blondie did not do the below.”

Now what I really saw was “Waah, boo hoo, LT Blondie, wah wah wah.”

I mean seriously WTF? I actually did do the task but it had to be sent back to the original sender due to some corrections that needed to be made. I can take some responsibility for the misunderstanding in that I didn’t read the email close enough to realize it said to give the document to my roommate. But I can’t think of any other way to put it other than “Tattle tail” (although evil b*tch has a nice ring to it). I mean it’s a 3rd grade term, but it definitely applies here. My boss was off the next day, my roommate had the whole day to ask me about it and she didn’t. I mean who knew the military was full of such whiny little brats who go crying to mom every time someone takes their toy. If hell were to freeze over and I made MAJ, I think I would have one of those trap doors installed, you know the kind that make the floor give out beneath whoever is annoying you with their insignificant petty problems? Mine would empty out into that little hole sadaam husseine crawled into, from the way he looked when they dragged his as* out of it, I’d say it would be juuuuuuussst right. Have you ever been asked that question about if you could have any super power that you wanted what would it be? Mine was always the ability to heal people. I mean I used to think wouldn’t that be the greatest thing in the world to be able to relieve someone else’s suffering? Well then I joined the military. Now all I want is to take up voodoo for dummies and poke all day long to the sound of Congo drums. I can’t say I’m proud of this transition, in fact I’m quite sure I’m headed to hell for even thinking about it….(insert longing sigh here). No, I’ll stay away from the voodoo, but I can’t promise anything about the itching powder or super glue…baby steps God, baby steps.