That idiot we all work with

Ugh! Frustration! Needless, frustration. Why? That idiot we all work with.

You know her (him) (them). They have proclaimed themselves experts at something they are not actually an expert in at all. They freely spout their opinions, though they are often ill-informed, non-practiced and out-right obnoxious.

So today my idiot, the one that is the subject of this post, made me so mad. Idiots tend to do that, don’t they? And we, all of us non-idiots, or rather, those of us that only talk about things we actually know about, things we actually do, things we actually get paid for, all of us are always the bigger people.

But no more! I am sick and tired of my idiot. Wait, I just can’t stand her. She’s not mine. I’m not claiming her. I’m giving her away. So, uh… the department’s idiot has seen the last of me ending my conversations with her on an adult-level. She is so disrespectful, pretentious, okay, I’ll just say it, bitchy. She makes my heart hurt inside for all the damage she is getting away with because no one wants to deal with her. And I get that. I don’t even like sitting near her in meetings with her smug face always looking down her nose at everyone else. I try so hard to ignore her, to not engage. But damn it. I’m so sick and tired of it.

I have to do something. But what? I thought of posting an article on Facebook, randomly without calling her out, with the facts of reality. But she’d probably not get it anyway. I’m sure there would be some idiot arguement about how the source, the experts who wrote the article(s) that have many, many more creditials than she does (okay, that would be pretty much anyone), is wrong. Or she’d ignore it. Or she’d not see it. She most certainly wouldn’t read it because if she did she might learn that she was wrong.

I know, I know. I shouldn’t spend my energy even thinking about her. But these types of idiots dig under my skin like a tick with Lyme disease. She needs to be stopped, shut down, exiled from the kingdom. Maybe I should help her find a job at a “better place,” you know, a place she hasn’t poisoned with her non-knowledge mouth dump yet.