I love what I do.
I don’t
know if that’s ever been made clear by…the very existence of this blog…but I
have found something that brings me genuine joy in life. Not many people can
say that. I know I’m lucky and I also know that in order to maintain the lifestyle
that allows me to do what I love, I must make certain concessions.
That was
one of the things I always knew. The day I shoved that cleat into the back of
the Homecoming King’s skull, I knew that there would be sacrifices. After all:
one cannot live on murder alone. I would need a life to lay over my passions to
could cover any trace of wrong doing.
And for
over 20 years, I have more of less been able to do that. Sure, the police have
come close or some crazed maniac has decided to take the law into his own hands.
Last summer seems like a lifetime ago but even then, I kept my secret and my
family safe and I was able to start over. I have slaughtered and buried and
conned every single person who came after me – who threatened my way of life.
I’m not
about to let some stupid job ruin me.
I need this
job. I was a temp before the pandemic because starting over meant completely
restarting my career (and then the world imploded). I am more than qualified
but this year has been a shit show in so many ways that I couldn’t get anything
to stick.
But I
finally got a job that was a strong as my old one at covering my lies. No one
will look at me twice, no one will think of me once they walk out the door, I
am more than qualified and I have a husband who works miracles with a police
background check.
The problem
is: I want to murder every single one of my colleagues. Every single one of
them. That’s a lie: the janitor was very kind and patient and has been working
extremely hard through this whole ordeal.
It’s all the
people I have to see in the daylight and convince myself not to bludgeon with
their little desk placard. It’d be a personalized murder, how fun!
I need
this. I can work at a bank, I can work with the customers, I can refrain from
killing the people I work with – more than I already have in the past…because I
have killed quite a few of my colleagues over the years. Maybe that’s why
people were always getting close. Huh.
I will
refrain from killing them for now but if Kim tells me one more story about her
sister’s dog, I am going to staple her lungs together, inflate them into a
balloon and send her body parts flying into the air like their own little dirigible.
I am over
this shit.
As always,
dear readers,
Stay Safe
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