ADVICE:"DON'T GIVE THEM THE SATISFACTION OF
SEEING YOU SWEAT"

CAB #: 7743

Jiminy Christmas, I love a good kook. Britney, I wanted to rub your buzzed mane for good luck as you attacked that car with your umbrella (ella…ella…ella). Tom Cruise, you had me at "glib putz" during your showdown with Matt Lauer. Florida Woman Who Called 911 To Report That McDonald’s Ran Out of Chicken McNuggets, can we be McBFFs? Humans – Americans, at least – are voyeuristic creatures. Reality television and gossip blogs are just as much legitimate guilty pleasures as chocolate milkshakes and fudge brownies. We love watching other people – be it the Richy McFamous or the everyday Joe the Plumbers – react to whatever silly shenanigans they find themselves in this week.

Watching is one thing, but what about being the one whose cool is compromised? Like Britney and Tommy and Chicken McNutty, it's always been my nature to wear my heart on my sleeve. Let’s be honest, my heart is not limited to my sleeve – it is, in fact, visible on the entirety of my shirt. [And now I will interject to kindly ask that you advise me against taking up poker. Please and thank you].

Being someone who's always laid my cards out on the table has worked against me once or twice. I once had a boss who drove me so crazy, she drove me crizazy. She threatened and yelled and cursed on a daily, if not hourly, basis (with such a lovely demeanor, it’s only fitting that she chose a career in public relations). She knew she intimidated me. And she enjoyed intimidating me. I tried to mask how I felt, but she sensed it. Perhaps the constant red face, shaky voice and half-eaten finger nails clued her in, but I digress. Point is, being the hunter that she was, she smelled my fear – even over my delicious apple-scented body lotion – and pounced any opportunity she had. Eventually, I let the fear I had for her overcome me, and I actually began to doubt myself and lose confidence in my work. At that point, I knew I had to move on to greener, less emotionally abusive pastures. The job was literally taking a toll on my mental health - no bluff.

The day I left her and that place, I vowed never again to be bullied, to outwardly express such vulnerability and insecurity, to let someone else's opinion of me affect how I feel about myself and my abilities – especially at the workplace.

As for the ex-boss, I hear the best revenge is being able to relish in the fact that she has pale skin and split ends. Kidding. We all know the best revenge is living well – which I’m currently doing. So take that, boss lady.

How's my new poker face lookin', Cabbie #7743?

D