There are very few things that can turn even the most even-tempered, studious, fun-loving girl into a raging bitchmonster.

I know that sounds like a loaded statement. You know it, I know it; there’s no mystery there. And I’m kind of setting it up like ‘Oh, I’m totally the victim here. I never did anything wrong, and I deserve all the sympathy.’ Well, I guess you could say I didn’t, and I do. And, if all goes well, by the end of this story, you’ll be on my side and totally agree with me.

Okay... some background here. Let’s say, hypothetically, you’ve been going through your life with everything going for you. You’re the personal assistant of the head honcho where you work. You’re a little bit of a nerd, but that works for you. You don’t have any friends, but you got a sweet-ass assistant who knows all your quirks, and can basically do your job for you if they weren’t such a lovable pushover. So now that you’re well situated, what’s the natural next step? You secure your future and move up the ladder, right? That’s the dream.

But along the way the boss-lady slaps a glass ceiling over you and says ‘Hey, you work too much. Go make some friends’.

Alright. Cool. Let’s go do that.

But I’m not happy about it!

Anyway, you obey the boss-lady and make some friends, who actually turn out not too bad, and what happens? Shit hits the fan. A long-lost sister of the boss-lady swoops in and tries to take the company out from underneath her because she's harbored a grudge for a really, really long time. A weirdo with a penchant for chocolate milk who attempts to take over the company through sheer chicanery. Another company tries to take over (that happens a lot around here) the company by dressing her employees up as our own and committing industrial espionage.

That almost worked, too, sadly enough. But I digress.

It’s just one thing after another. And for some really weird reason, you’re always the one tapped to handle these problems; you and your friends. You’re never quite sure why — surely the company has dedicated individuals for these issues, right? That’s what you think, anyway. But you also thinking that maybe, just maybe, if you help out enough and be a good assistant, you’ll eventually get that promotion you want to executive assistant. Or better yet, your own team. Not that you think you’d be any good at being a manager or anything, but hell, it’d look great on a resume, right?

And better yet, your friends are with you every step of the way, sticking with you through thick and thin. Life is good, your future is looking up, and you wouldn’t trade it for anything.

And then shit hits the fan again.

Remember? That happens a lot around here.

I won’t go into details, but suffice to say things get bad. Worse that ever before. You still have your job. Better yet, you got that promotion you always wanted. But the victory is bitter and turns to ash in your mouth. After all, what good is victory when the taste of failure tastes so much worse?

Not only that, but with your new promotion comes a whole slew of new responsibilities. You could call yourself a department head, with a side order of bitch duty. You basically have the responsibilities of a boss, but are regularly outsourced to handle even the most menial tasks that others need help with; from actual, legitimate work all the way down to wiping someone’s ass.

No, seriously. Sometimes I hate people.

And what’s worse — it’s for a completely different company… in a different country! And if you don’t do your job to the letter, you don’t just get fired, but your company goes under, and you get quietly bumped off, too

That's a nicer way to say you get killed, by the way.

How’s that for employee recognition?

At least you still have cartoons to keep a smile on your face. Cartoons make everything better.

So here you are, living day to day, stuck in a job you hate, doing something you hate even more. Until you eventually screw up and all goes to hell.

And that’s it. That’s the story… more or less.

So by now, I bet you’re thinking, ‘There’s no way all that’s all true. There’s no company on the planet that would treat its employees like that.' Or, 'it’s just not possible to have all that crap happen to a single person.’

I know, right? Pretty unbelievable. But that’s what happened — again, more or less — a long time ago. And that’s why I’m here right now, complaining to you fine people.

You see, I’m pretty famous where I’m from. I have a reputation. I’m kind of a self-styled loner. Everyone respects me — I mean, I practically run my own company (a subsidiary to the head company, but still… it's the principal of the thing) and I’m a good boss. Or, at least, I’d like to think I am. And I have a lot of power over my employees, and the employees of my colleagues. My sister’s employees and my niece’s, too. But the term ‘laundry bitch’ also works pretty well, offensive as that is. Most days it’s not too bad, but if I’m really honest with you, being here at all to tell you about how things went down is what really chaps my ass.

So I’ve kind of made it my business over the years to look out for people with stories like mine, you know? No one else is really doing it. I mean, the real tough luck cases, people that get handed the shit stick, the hated or pitied. People like me that are lauded in public, but once eyes are turned away we’re laughed at, or pitied, like I said.

It’s unacceptable. It’s time for us poor saps to rise up and become awesome again!

If only it was that easy, right? It rarely is, but… you know what? Fuck it. It’s inspirational, and I’m keeping it.

Anyway, I bet you’re wondering who I am and where I’m from. Well, trust me when I tell you that it’s a very… very weird story, and it’s a harder one to swallow than the one above — which you’ve probably already figured out is one, big, fat metaphor.

So instead, let’s start with someone else’s story. And you’d better pay attention, because she’s the only person in the multiverse (yeah, you read that right) that I care about more than anything else. And, while we didn’t have the most conventional friendship at first, we quickly learned that we both needed each other more than either of us could have expected.

Shut up, I know that sounds gay. Get over it.