How the Fuck did this happen!?

I'm sitting here in my living room on a Saturday night at 9:30 pm, and all I can think is, How the Fuck did this Happen?! I'm good at what I do, really good. How the fuck did that mother fucking prick get the okay to get rid of me?

I guess I should go back to the beginning, the most recent beginning that matters at least. I, until yesterday, or until next Friday ( I pretty sure the actual date is in question), worked at a mid sized regional office of a larger national construction general contractor out of Minnesota. The office I worked out of is in Tacoma, Washington, should have been the first sign, stupid mother fucker that i am ignored that one. I joined then two years ago and was filled with hope and excitement for the future. I was successful, I was winning work, and winning it profitably. Then, my boss left. It was a temporary delay, we just moved on. I toke over the daily running of the department, and dealing with the monkeys. There were lots of monkeys. the biggest was Aaron. If he could lie about something, he would. Sometimes, he wouldn't even know what it was he was lying about, it was just his first response, lie. There's so much more with Aaron but I really can't go there just yet. Later. Fucking fat fuck. Then, there was John. John is one of those guys that loves to talk about how busy he was. Always busy. There he'd be in the office next to mine and I could feel him slamming away on the keys of his keyboard. Everyone jokes about John slamming away on his keyboard pretending to be busy. Except, he didn't bid anything, or price anything. The funny part is that he really thinks that he's fooling all of us. But, John is a good guy. He has a good heart, and that counts for a lot in my book. If it doesn't for you, fuck off, I don't give a fuck. The next monkey is a complex one, one that needs a whole other post. Much like Aaron, but the opposite of Aaron. Pat. Or Patty I should say. For every shitty character trait of Aaron, there is a balance, the good trait of Pat. For Aaron's lack of responsibility, there's Pat's unfailing streak of taking responsibility for everything, which can be quite annoying when he taking responsibility for your stuff. For Aaron's extreme dishonesty, Pat's complete and total honesty. But, we'll get to Pat later. Next there's Ned. Ned is the old horse. He's 69, lives half the year in Arizona and runs half a dozen marathons every years, including the Boston Marathon,  in which he wins his age group every year. My first experience with Ned was not a visual or a tactile one, it was auditory. Everywhere Ned went he ran. Our office is very spread out and when Ned leaves his office, he runs. Have to take a piss, Ned's running to the bathroom. Print something out (which he does with abomb), run to the printer. The distinct part with Ned is that Ned always carries his keys in his pockets, and they are serious keys. This collection of long-dead lock openers bulges out from the front of his right pants pocket like some grotesque fucking tumor, but it's not. Just fucking keys. So these keys jingle. It's like an early warning system that Ned's coming down the hall. Before you turn that corner, listen, is Ned coming?

Wow, I'm starting to realize how little I've really touched on all the people, I mean monkeys. I'm really thinking that all of them need a entry all to themselves. I think I'll start that tomorrow.