Karmic Justice

They fired Il Duce.

... (pause to allow the realization/recognition to settle in) ...

Yes! They did. On Friday. I know. Shocking, isn't it? And especially shocking since he worked in the U.K. where employment laws protect you from up on high. You've practically got to be sleeping with an employee to get fired out there. (Oh, wait a minute...) Granted, I'm sure he still got a healthy severance package, but I've seen this company waste money on worse things. This, to me, seems like a good investment.

The funny thing (funny interesting, not funny ha-ha) is that this is a week shy of the year anniversary since I suggested my little coup d'état to my three managers last summer (Judy, Judas and Bob's Your Uncle), back when I'd had it up to here (hand raised to eyebrow level) with Il Duce's sex, lies and bad management in general. Who'd have thought, then, that things would work out like this 51 weeks later?

So, it's not work "shit" at all, this post. Work "fucking awesomeness" instead. Work "karmic retribution." Work "poetic justice." Yes, this is the first piece of good news that I've had to share about my job in a while. I just found out today, so pardon me while I get up and dance a little jig around the room.

(Jig dancing ensues.)