Hovering

She sits with her feet up on her desk, next to her collection of tacky paperweights. Her square glasses sit on the tip of her nose as she reads a book she has heard to be good which I have also read. Hoe I wish I could spoil the ending for her for no other reason than to take away the satisfaction of discovering it herself. She sees me and notices my glance toward her name on the door with suck unnecessary importance and feels empowered by her unneeded authority. She makes me go up to her. She does not move from her lounging position. She will not do me the courtesy of looking me in the eye when I speak to her; instead she sips at her diet coke. Just the word ‘diet’ makes her feel productive though she falls short of that. She listens as I speak and when I am finished she answers as though the solution is so simple and she understands everything though there is little in this world she could ever comprehend. I am polite, but my mind rages inside my small self. It is this fact-this idea of small which holds her over me. What gives her the right? What makes her so qualified to speck to me as though I have so much to learn and so little to offer? I’d wager I have more to offer than she does today and yet she has such a high rank over me and so many others who have accomplished so much more and the potential to be so much greater, but still she reigns over us. I hope someday, when I half her unspeakable age, I will have the success I’ve dreamed of and put her wasted time to shame. However, I know that she would take the credit for my accomplishments, claiming that she was foundation of my upbringing and the one who was there before it all happened. I refuse to ever acknowledge the tiniest speck of her and her ‘job.’ I will go out of my way to purposely ignore her and do whatever is in my power to discredit her publicly. Walking away from her stale perfume scented office, I am enraged. I head the boy next to me curse aloud and think how disappointing that would be in her ears. I wish to congratulate him because it is gentlemen like him who cause her early grey hairs and bags under her cold eyes. She sees herself as dignified and likely brags to other women over a budgets salad bar lunch. Her false pride and undeserved arrogance makes me sick to my stomach. She acts as though she were the soul cause to any good name given to this establishment. I will never act in her name or the name of this forsaken place. I will soon leave, and leave it in my dust forever.