Detective
Watts: The man of a single expression, came over again last night. I don’t like
it. It’s too convenient. I tried to let it go but I don’t trust the friendship
that has suddenly developed between him and my husband.
James says
I’m being paranoid and that he’ll keep an eye out but he’s “pretty sure he
knows Gary well enough to trust him.” I don’t know if I trust him.
Maybe I’m
just a selfish monster.
But over
the years, I’ve learned to trust my instincts. If something’s not right, I run.
And right now I want to get the hell out of here. James calls me a Jackrabbit.
…
For other
reasons but I know when there’s danger and I know when to move. I’m worried.
And I don’t get worried. I get strategic. Sometimes I flail and panic when I
get strategic, true. When it comes to liars and dangerous situations, I know
what I’m talking about.
It’s also
quite frustrating when people don’t listen to me or believe me. Especially on a
subject I have years of experience in.
Speaking of
which: there’s a new guy at work and I already want to kill him. I have never
heard such passively sexist bullshit from one person before. Everyone woman –
regardless of age – is “little lady” like we’re down at his ranch. He holds the
door for everyone which is…nice. But he always lingers a little too long on the
women. Now, I am a poor feminist at best, but it comes back to what I was
talking about: instinct. If something doesn’t feel right, get out.
Or in this
case: get him out.
I’m
debating between killing him and getting him fired. Both would be satisfying,
just in different ways.
I am trying
to use some self-control when it comes to the people in my immediate circle. No
more killing coworkers unless they really deserve it.
We’ll have
to wait and see if our resident “rancher” deserves it.
As always,
dear readers,
Stay Safe
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