The Bad Guy

I painted myself as the bad guy

The evil, the black sheep, the ugly duckling, the outcast so when someone view me that way, I don’t get hurt anymore.

It was a busy Monday,

As usual I’m working on my macros and dashboards to present on the meetings for the day. Including the ADHOC tasks that was given to me from the past week. Around 7:00 in the evening, I took my dog inside the house and unexpectedly during one of my presentations he peed on the floor.

I can’t move to grab a rag to wipe it, having my hand glued to the mouse maneuvering my screen. Listening intently to what the stakeholders need, asking me about certain features are possible.

It did not took so long that my father saw Guzman’s urine on the floor and automatically asked me to wipe it. I gestured and mouthed, “wait.” and pointed on my computer’s screen showing him that I am talking to someone.

But instead of understanding the situation. He shouted hysterically telling me how bad of a daughter I am and that I’m plainly hardheaded and disrespectful.

My mic is on, my screen is on.

The words and important requests of the people in the meeting suddenly sound far from where I am. The degrading words of my father is enveloping me causing my mind to stop.

The moment the got myself together, I turned off my microphone immediately.

Of course, they heard.

And I cannot contain my tears.

They keep telling me their insights but I got nothing in sight.

Blank,zero

I just want to cry.

I still feel the silence when they suddenly heard the background voice. They were in shock but rubbed it off.

It’s not their problem.

I’m not paid by my emotions.

My issues should not stop them, it will simply not stop the bussiness.

I ran upstairs to answer them but I cannot.

I messaged them that I had a emergency.

Which indeed is.

An emergency that was never too urgent to anyone.

Not even me.