He Who Angers You, Controls You

Neil has taken over my Life.

I went to bed last night thinking of him. I tried not to, Ms J. I tried to think of Shania Twain, but somehow Twain became train and there he was, sitting in the cab of the engine, smirking.

"Think about it, Dale. You know I'm right, don't you?"

I know you're an idiot, Neil. Now get the hell out of my fantasy.

I think about him all the time now. I dread going to work on Monday. I don't want to see him. And I sure don't want to talk to him. But I must. The job requires us to communicate. Maybe if I ask him to keep his conversation to job-related topics.

"There's another train on our track. He's heading right for us."

Or "There's a bomb under your seat, Dale."

Or maybe "Watch out for that gasoline tanker stalled on the track ahead."

I'm spending (wasting) too much time worrying about this turd.

What am I really afraid of, Ms J? That's the question, isn't it? What is it about this impending situation (i.e. working with Neil) that so frightens me? I'm an adult. I can deal with difficult people. I've done it before. I'm not very adept, but Kelly continues to teach me. Neil will be a teacher too, if I let him. I just don't feel open to that opportunity, Ms J.

I don't like myself when I'm around him. I don't like my thoughts. I don't like my behaviour. I become a different person in his presence. I worry about becoming violent, physically. I am not a violent person, but when Neil discovers a nerve and then proceeds to touch it repeatedly, I just want to roll him into a tight little ball and defenestrate him at 80 mph.

I'm not alone in my feelings. This morning, five different men offered me condolences.

"I heard about your new mate, Dale. Sorry about your luck. I'm glad the little prick's not working with me. One time last year we nearly came to blows when he ..."

Nobody likes Neil.

I sometimes think part of my frustration is in my helplessness. I can't help Neil. There are things he needs to hear, things that might help him. He might even end up making a friend. But he is vehemently opposed to listening to criticism. He loves to dole it out, Ms J. He loves to criticize others. But he can't listen to anyone challenging him. There must surely be some redeeming quality in the man, but as yet, no one has found it.

I will try to forget about him this weekend. I'll try to busy myself with gardening and house work and not think about Monday morning. This little Light of mine, I'm gonna let it shine. The Truth is that right now, Neil is covering my Light with his wet blanket. And I'm allowing him to do it.

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