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that prick keep talking to you that way?… my inner witch screams at me.
    On Wednesday, I make his coffee with the one packet of sugar. I walk slowly from the room this time to see if he has anything to say. Nothing. Silence. The day gets better because he leaves the office at nine thirty am and won’t be returning. I spend the rest of the day wondering what the hell is going on. Does he regret the dance last weekend? Does he regret it and intends to take it out on me? Hell, I didn’t want it anyway. Did I do or say something wrong enough to deserve this? Is he putting me through some kind of sick test to see how long it is before I break? I decide to put it out of my mind or I’ll never get any work done.
    Thursday morning, he arrives at the office and again I take him his coffee, with one packet of sugar. Once more, before I make it out the door, “Sheridan, this coffee is not sweet enough. What the hell is up with this coffee thing?” I apologize again and retrieve his cup to make another. I go to the coffee area and wait a couple of minutes. I return to his office with the same cup of coffee and hand it to him. I wait, again, for the verdict.
    “Much better,” he responds. I go to the door with my inner witch screaming, Are you a damn fool? Why the hell would you let a man treat you this way and walk all over you? No fucking job is worth this shit! This time I let her fuel the flames already burning. When I reach the door, I slam it closed, turn and walk half way back across the room. By this time, he is rising from his desk and his eyes are wide with surprise.
    “What the hell is your damned problem or were you just born a fucking asshole? I haven’t been able to please you this week and I can’t figure out why. That fucking cup of coffee that is much better , is the same fucking cup of coffee you had to begin with. I don’t know if you’re trying to fuck with my mind or if you just don’t like the job I’m doing. If the latter is the case, please tell me and I’ll gladly resign,” I storm at him. He looks me dead in the eyes and begins to walk straight toward me. I begin to take steps backward, away from him, until I hit the wall.
    Oh shit, now you’ve done it , rants that damned inner witch. When he reaches me, he places his hands on the wall, one on each side of my head. He leans down, his eyes still locked on mine, and we are practically nose to nose again. “No one has ever talked to me that way,” he says, with a smirk on his face and a strange twinkle in his eyes. I feel all the courage drain from my body. I slide down the wall just enough to clear his arm and escape his stance.
    “Well, they damn well should have. Maybe you wouldn’t be the prick you are today,” I storm at him again as I stomp out the door and slam it. I sit at my desk and put my head in my hands. You’ve really fucked up now. I told you not to take his shit but I didn’t say to totally annihilate him. We are done here, finished, kaput! I want to strangle that damned inner witch.
    All of the sudden, I hear his voice but softer this time, “Sheridan.”
    I jerk my head up to attention. “Yes sir,” I almost whisper.
    “I’ll be having lunch in the office today. Would you take care of that for me, please?” he says with an apologetic tone in his voice.
    “Yes sir. I’ll see to it,” I say as I reach for the phone. He goes back into his office. His voice was kinder but I’m still pissed. When I order his sandwich, I order it with extra mayonnaise. Oh yeah, that will show him. How juvenile! My inner witch is at it again but I ignore her.
    When I get home, I go straight in and throw myself across the bed. It’s been a shitty week and I’m exhausted. Just one more day, I keep telling myself. Then the phone rings. I answer and it’s Mother. Just the perfect thing to top off a perfect week. She asks all the usual questions. I tell her about my new job. She seems a little disapproving, of course. Then she starts