Pooped Out: when you’ve taken enough $@#%

Sometimes you just get wiped out. Somedays have no breaks and some nights have no rest. And some business has no business. We pay a high price for wrongdoing - somebody else’s that is!

I’m tired of cleaning up after people. I’m not tired of great service or hospitality - I’m tired of cleaning up after some nitwit has run a business into the ground and left the scene of the wreck not only unscathed, but blissfully unaware of ANY and All DAMAGES!.

I’m a licensed professional. I get audited by the state - scrutinized aplenty. And I’m not claiming that I’m inculpable - but that I shouldn’t be incriminated by the past administration’s rather egregious account(s) of mismanagement. It’s mayhem set in motion by a nincompoop. The gravity of the situation is that my license gets jeopardized while said nincompoop is spared ANY and ALL CONSEQUENCES. $@#%. $@#%. $@#%. I stepped in a pile of $@#% and the company wants to know why I’m putting up a stink! It’s because the nincompoop before me was granted squatter’s rights and dropped a load of nobody’s business on my desk…

That’s called a load. A pile of work. A heap. Commodious-malfeasance.

Don’t turn your back on squatters - they’ll leave piles of misery.