Last drop of sanity drained. Please return to your homes, this may take a while to clean up.

2005-04-01, 10:32 p.m.

Today was possibly a worse day than it would have been if I had woken up and everyone I knew and loved had become a flesh-eating zombie.

I went to talk to the chaplain yesterday because I was so pissed about how I had to work a 24-hour shift and nobody else had to, and the fact that my bosses just generally treat me like unshaven asshole.

The chaplain said he'd try to talk to the aforementioned evil bosses, and I knew it would be a bad idea to let him open that can of worms, but I was so frustrated, I didn't know what else to do.

So my Main Bitch Boss comes up to me today and says, "I know you've been talking to people from other sections and complaining to them about your shift, and I want you to stop it."

That's fucked up in itself, because last I heard, there's no Army regulation governing who a person can and cannot complain to ("Yeah, that would be AR 1000-1, 'Bitching and Moaning,' section 3, paragraph A"), but whatever.

THEN, I told her I thought that the shift was bullshit anyway, and yada yada yada.

She practically yelled at me that SHE was counseling ME here, and if I didn't stop arguing with her about it, she was going to give me a written counseling statement (more or less a slap on the wrist, but still shitty because I didn't do anything wrong, and the thing still gets recorded) -- second fucked up thing.

So then I tell her I think what she's try to do is bullshit, and she drags me over to Secondary Asshole Boss, and they BOTH yell at me for supposedly "having a bad attitude"-- third fucked up thing, because I work my ass off for that stupid newspaper, and I have never complained about my workload before, except if Incompetent Co-worker is supposed to do something for me and doesn't do it, then I get pissed.

So I lost my temper, and started yelling back at them about how fucked up I think this all is, and how I'm being treated unfairly.

Oh yeah, yelling back at bosses is a definite no-no in the Army, just to clarify the full level of anger I had reached (Level Why Don't You Shut The Fuck Up And Leave Me Alone Before I Empty This Magazine Into Your Defenseless, Overweight Body).

Seriously, they said a LOT of untrue crap, and I was PISSED -- like, physically shaking in a human ball of rage -- by the time they let me go.

Then I went to my company commander Head Honcho about it (of course, I told them I was going to do that first, because that's the way shit has to be done here), and since the commander is a sane person, he was on my side.

He even told me he thought what they did was fucked up, and that he'd talk to them about it -- which is actually a pretty big deal. A commander doesn't come to a young soldier's rescue on just anything, especially if sergeants (Evil Bosses 1 and 2) are involved.

But in the meantime, the evil ones are still treating me like shit.

And yes, I almost took my own advice to Husband and punched them both in the face. Hard.

In fact, if my hands weren't clenched behind my back at Fake Respect Stance, I probably would have taken a couple swings at them.

Luckily, I didn't, 'cause these fists are made of STEEL, baby!

And also I probably would have gone to jail for assault. But the main thing is the Fists Of Steel.

This is why I hate the army, o my wonderful friends. The people who work the hardest get treated the worst.

Even the commander told me, "Shit, even in Kuwait you were the only one doing any work." So he's definitely on my side.

But I'm still pissed that this crap is going on.

If you see me on the news in the near future with a headline like, "Soldier Goes Straight-Up Crazy And Whoops Some Evil Boss Ass," you'll know it was me.

Off to bed.

Hopefully, at least my dreams will be good.