Don’t Waste My Time B

I’ve probably said this before, but there are fewer things that I hate more than wasted time. That has GOT to be one of my biggest pet peeves. I hate inefficiency and I hate bullshittery. Yes I know that’s not a real word, but if it existed, you’d know exactly what it meant.

By now I’ve had enough different jobs to come to the conclusion that I can not fake that I hate being in pointless ass meetings. When I first started off, I could pretend with the best of them that I actually cared about what the person up front was saying. The older I get, the harder it gets to find my fucks to give. I will legit be in meetings with a  resting bitch face even though I’m not upset.

Glazed over eyes and pursed lips with my arms folded.

I don’t mind meetings, in fact, I actually understand that they are necessary sometimes. But if I have to use precious time that I could be using to take a nap or troll social media to listen to you: 1. You better have something important to say that I don’t already know/heard in every other meeting and 2. You better have your shit together, like organized with targeted points you’re going to talk about.

Nothing makes you want to choke the life out of someone faster than knowing that they’ve officially wasted 45min to an hour talking about the price of tea in China when you don’t like tea or China. Hoe. sit. down.

And as much as I don’t like my professional time being wasted, I REAAALLLLYYYY don’t like my personal time being wasted.

I want to say that every guy I’ve ever dealt with has been a waste of my time in some way, shape, or form but that would sound a little more bitter than I’d like it too. I’ll give credit where credit is due. I know that every relationship/whatevership that didn’t work out has taught me a lesson whether I wanted to learn it or not and I’m mature enough not to hold it against the next Joe that comes along.

That still doesn’t take away from the fact that I’d love to judo-chop all of my ex- boos and baes in the throat with a considerable amount of force.

My last whatevership ended not too long ago so I’m still licking those wounds but because I’m petty I write to express my feelings in a healthy way– these are my thoughts.

You wasted my time.

Those seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months that I can not get back -Fuck you very much.

You carried time away from me tucked and locked away in a black box while you continuously invaded my black box.

And I let your words enchant me. I let them massage my most private areas until my eyes were closed in pleasure and I became blind to see what you were really doing.

Wasting my time.

Every chance you got you watered the garden of “what could be” between us, even though you knew you weren’t ready for the responsibility of it actually blossoming. How dare you tend to it till it’s moist and ready with no intentions of ever laying roots there?

But for now we’ll carry on, cordially, for the sake of our mutual friends; like we never shared and exchanged emotions passionately behind closed doors.

And as pissed as I am, I know that I’ll eventually find peace with the time lost. Which ironically will probably be at the same time you decide you want more.

And I’ll just have to accept the learned lesson that every person that desires your time and attention, does not necessarily deserve it. AND, even when it’s tempting, let sleeping dogs lie. <–Pun ABSOLUTELY intended.

Ain’t nobody got time fuh dat,


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