What My Boss Doesn't Know....

I hate my boss. This is no grand proclamation, most people hate their bosses.

But my boss thinks we’re friends. We are not.

I secretly pray each and every morning that he gets hit by a bus on his way to work. I’m only half joking, I’m mostly serious.

He follows my work on our computer network and cleans it up, not his job. He peers over my shoulder, trying look at my monitor, prying into my life.

He pushes his religion on me and mocks my ethnicity.

I hate him. I want to quit but the money is good.

When is the line crossed between I hate, and I loathe, I despise, I ooze anger? I’m about a mile past wherever that line is.

And of course, he’s obese. Not chubby or fat, but obese.
He eats French fries with every meal.

Whenever he shoves fistful of French fries into his mouth, I pray that he chokes.

His mouth makes noises as he eats.

Suck, chew, swallow, smack lips. Suck, chew, swallow, smack lips.

He slurps his coffee and makes yummy noises with each slurp.

Shlluuurrrp, mmmmmmmm.

I have to hold myself back from punching him in the mouth and screaming, slurp on this!