Passive-aggressive crap
At least, that's what it seems like to me. I never took psych-type classes in college or visited a professional, so I'm just using a term I've heard thrown around without knowing what it means for sure. (Man, if psychiatrist visits had been part of BioSoft's insurance package and I'd availed myself of it, how different would things be? Would I be better-adjusted or writing this from a mental institution?) Still, saying "I'll meet you with the papers" and "getting held up" twice in one week is just certainly what I imagine "passive-aggressive" means: Being a dick by not doing something.

Finally, one of the guys at the warehouse offered to drive me into the city during lunch hour so I could just visit Doug at his office and pick them up. I got dirty looks from the folks there who had met me while Doug and I were together; I don't know what he told them. The basic truth, that I slept with and old boyfriend while he was away for the weekend, was probably enough; there's no need to play the freak card. I didn't ask; I just told the receptionist that Doug had some papers for me. She buzzed him, and an assistant-type person brought them out. Whatever. I wasn't particularly keen to see him, but if he didn't want to see me, he should have just said "I'll have them sent over" a week ago, rather than trying to set up some time to hand them over to me personally and then not showing.

Ah, well. At least I've got enough documentation to get into Quebec next week. It's neat to look over, too - see that this body was born in Burlington, VT, that my biological parents' names are Harrison and Susan, and they were crazy young when Michelle was born - "Dad" was 21 and "Mom" was 20. The idea of marrying and having kids didn't even cross my mind at that age. Or ten years later, really. Seriously, what were they thinking?

-Marti
- posted 3:28 PM - - (archive use only)