Can I merc my boss? I kinda wanna merc my boss.

 It has been a loooooong week.

It began with the boss deciding that it would be a fun policy change to completely fuck with the way that I do my job. He moves buckets around (note: the "buckets" are actually GIGANTIC baskets that I throw the sorted goods into while they come down the conveyor belt) and box me in with them. I got a degree of claustrophobia going from a trauma that I've talked about enough at this point--the point is, I wasn't having it.

Then he starts throwing shit on the floor if I don't get to it fast enough for his liking, meaning that I gotta stoop down and get it off of the floor--usually, again, a basket worth.

THEN he decides that this isn't fucking with me enough, so he has OTHER PEOPLE start throwing shit onto the floor instead of in the small baskets that are there for offload/overspeed, and the kicker about that shit? I have to turn around and put it in the basket anyway, which fucks with my back even worse.

Oh, and my migraines are back.

The only good news is that I definitely have my writing mojo back.