Poetic Justice

In my life, there have been a few cases of poetic justice. There should be more.

The manager that told me to go @#$% myself, later being fired.

The manager I was assistant to that called me at work, one hour after she was off drunk off her butt telling me she couldn't stand me that was fired for that and other drunken dialogs.

The bachelor supervisor that was so indifferent to moms and their need to be home with sick children who, not 2 years later found himself married, with a child that in her infancy began having seizures - requiring him to leave to go to the doctor or the hospital. (No, I don't wish that on anyone, but I realize that anything short of that, or something like it, would not have sunken in. Thankfully it was a temporary condition that she will outgrow.)

The manager that told me that what I do on my own time is NOT my business - because I was attending classes after my shift was over and pocketed the tips customers left for me up at the register, being later fired and charged with embezzlement.

I now have a wish for some poetic justice:

I wish for Jessica's mother to meet a man, have him move in with her, have his child(ren) come for visitation, love this man's children, help them with homework and other various situations - like their mother physically and verbally abusing them, pick them up from school so there is more time to help them with homework, have them treat her like crap, treat her daughter like crap, break things in her house that are precious to her, be left out of any important aspect of their lives, be told she has no rights, be told by their mother that she can't use her own phone because they are complaining about her to their mother, comfort these children when their parents are fighting, have birthday parties for them, be bad-mouthed by their mother to them and the man, be the scapegoat for anything that goes wrong in the mother and the children's lives, try to protect herself from the kicking, destructive, foul-mouthed, lying flunking-school children who call their mother and tell her that they have been stabbed, because when they were kicking her, their legs scraped her fingernails, only to hear later that their mother told the man that he should have stuck up for the children.

There's more, but I think that will suffice. I am glad the weekend is over. Time to finish my homework. Oh, and if you are a woman dating a man with children and his ex-wife or mother of his children is the psychob@#$% from hell, politely excuse yourself from the relationship and move on.

I think Brian is looking for a place of his own. I hope so. It sounds like he wants to live close by to see the dogs. Hmmm... I don't know if that would work.


But to end on a positive note, somewhat, does anyone else have any stories of poetic justice in their lives? Any wishes for poetic justice? Please help me not sound so evil here!!