Loathsome Conjures Up a Migraine

I was on the phone with my mom yesterday at 8:15 when Loathsome knocked on my door. Not knowing who it was, I said, "Come in." The sight of him standing in my office doorway first thing in the morning was a harbinger of bad things to come. To my surprise, he noted immediately that I was on the phone and left. Loathsome is usually too self absorbed to notice that you're on the phone unless you put the person you're talking to on hold and say, "I'm on the phone. I'll be with you in a minute."

When I finished my conversation, I actually went to see what he wanted. That's exactly the kind of bad judgment call I've been making for weeks now. I can't even remember what the hell I was thinking at the time. I ran into the door jamb on my way out of my office, though. I remember that. I have a bruise on my left hipbone commemorating the event.

"What?" I asked him when I got to his office.

"I need to scan...."

"Give it to me. I'll do it." As always, I was trying to cut to the chase.

"No, I did the scan..." Oh my god. He can actually do something.

"...but when I checked my email to see if I got the copy, it asked for my Roadrunner password," his voice trailed off and he looked for a moment as if the confusion was blocking his airways. "I have to get this to a client. Could you send it?"

Oh god. What I won't do for my company.

"Okay. Scan it again and send it to me." I groaned inwardly, knowing I was probably going to spend the next hour or so dealing with him and his email.

After he scanned it, I opened my email as he hovered over me. He brought a sticky note with the email addresses and watched me type them in as if I might accidentally detonate a bomb in the process.

"Done," I pointed out, in the hopes that would get him out of my office immediately.

"I don't know why it asked me for my password." He's relentless. Loathsome's general approach to life is to keep repeating things endlessly until he gets the response he wants to hear or he drives someone absolutely out of their mind, whichever comes first.

"Did you restart? Restart your computer," I suggested. I know. What a brilliant, out of left field idea, right?

"Okay," he mumbled. "I don't know why it asked for my password."

I told him I didn't know, either, but he should try restarting. I hotfooted it back to my own office. Halfway back, I felt like I'd been stabbed in my left temple with an icepick. The Migraine. It didn't leave me for the rest of the day. Nonetheless, I called Loathsome a little later to check on his progress. I know. I'm a saint.

"So did you restart?" I asked him.

"Yes."

"Well did it work?" Just then I remembered why I should never follow up with Loathsome. Too late....

"Yeah. I don't know why it asked me for a password...."

I felt that icepick in my temple again; it was actually the high point of my day yesterday. Seeing Loathsome first thing in the morning is like walking under a ladder, breaking a mirror, opening an umbrella on the inside and crossing paths with a black cat all at the same time. Things can only get worse from there.