… So I said, Yes, and by the way, when I grow up, I’m gonna be a war criminal. My guidance counsellor suggested it. (I’ll make a poster for this later.)
Notice anything different this month? I’ll tell you later.
Sometimes I find myself wondering if the cost of kimchi has increased, similar to that of oxtail, and what other cultural equivalents have seen their prices explode. Are people going to keep their culinary wonders to themselves?
I know nothing of economics, and I don’t care enough to look it up. Is it only demand and supply that dictate cost? I got tired of kimchi, so I don’t eat it anymore, but for Dre, it’s a staple.
Heads Up!
This post contains heavy doses of irreverent humour, disability satire, explicit language, and candid talk about trauma and surviving bullshit. If you’re sensitive to dark humour or real talk about tough stuff, consider this your “turn back now or buckle up” moment.
For me, it’s just another day.
Warning received, yeah!
Matt is secretly trying to kill me. I’m sure of it. That time I broke my arm, it was cause he was mopping the kitchen floor. And this time, most recently, when I smashed my front teeth in, it was cause I went into his disaster of a bedroom to get a fan, slipped on something on the way out, and the fan met my face and the floor.
Now I know how hard someone has to hit me to knock my teeth out. Good knowledge to have, I guess.
I had a dream that I was somewhere, and it was super cold, and someone was chasing me, but I couldn’t hide properly cause I was naked, my teeth were chattering (if that’s the right word), and I was shivering. With every shiver and chatter, a tooth would fall out, hit something and make a ton of noise.
Here’s something I need you to know:
When anyone, family, friend, I don’t give a shit, does something that crosses the line, assuming you know what your lines are, but even if you don’t, you can usually feel it. Trust that feeling and tell someone.
Something happened to my daughter recently. I won’t get into it because it’s her story to tell. I was grateful that she trusted me with the info.
That’s how we start breaking the cycle: by refusing to hide other people’s wrongdoing. My immediate response was, “Don’t keep that shit to yourself. Tell everybody.” And the worst part was that she felt bad, or thought it was something she had done to cause it.
It took her a few weeks to work up the courage, but she did it. Gross people rely on manipulation, shaming or guilting you into silence. Please don’t fall for it. Speak up!
Every time I hear stories via catfish and true crime shows, I’m reminded: abusers and creeps count on you staying quiet.
Shame belongs to the person who did wrong, not the one who survived it.
And if you’re the one doing shady shit? Watch out! My GenX Sumo Ninja Koala army will fuck you up. At the morgue, your next of kin will be like, “Why did you call me down here? I don’t know who that is.”
FYI:
Call for a quote
My Sumo Ninja Koalas can supply syphilis, fulfilling your revenge fantasies.
Alt-Bio: Disability Power Fantasy
When I grow up, I’m also going to be a special needs porn star. This is my side hustle in case the war criminal thing doesn’t pan out.
My audience will be amputees, quadriplegics and trisomies. Because sex isn’t only for able-bodied/”normal” minded people. After my first million, my next movie is gonna be about how I did it my way, ignoring what people said:
- “Ain’t nobody gonna hire your no IQ havin’ ass.”
- “No one wants to see a retarded person having sex.”
- “Down syndrome or whatever the fuck you got, ain’t sexy!”
When you start striving, reaching, and stretching, decide whose opinion matters to you most. You only need a few people; everyone else can fuck off. And just because their opinion matters doesn’t mean you gotta do what they say.
And if your internal dialogue is self-denegrating, know that shit came from somewhere, and just as you learned it, you can learn something better and encouraging.
New Posting Plan
Last month, I made 24 things, and I let all of them out into the wild. Then I realized I really need to get over the urge to post immediately. My new plan is to post once a week, on Fridays, Saturdays, or whenever – once it’s weekly.
If I strategically posted those 24 things, that’s six months’ worth of work. I will post one journal entry on the last Friday/Saturday of the month, and then share whatever I feel like on the other weeks.
By the end of August, I had already lined up and scheduled all my posts for September. I think I already have three posts for October.
Did you have a good September?
Would you like the gift of syphilis? I could say that word all day. Syphilis. It’s just… delicious, like the words on my All-Time Favourites list:
- Brah
- Diarrhea
- Shit
- Fuck (only when I feel like swearing)
- Nigga
- Nigger
- Motherfucker
- Angry
- Furious
- Black
- Woman
- Bitch
- Hoe
- Ass
- Imbecile
Do you have favourite words?
Final Thought
I will not be renewing my PMP in 2026. I’m over it. In fact, I’m putting this on my resume:
ExPMP (2008–2026):
Eighteen years of project management experience via multi-million dollar projects in banking, wealth management, and software development. If you need a “certified” PM you're a god damn fuckin' idiotic, moronic, imbecilic, pea-brained simpleton and I'd rather self-harm than spend a minute working with you!
Suppose I were to get fired from this job (or maybe when I do). Not that I can afford to quit or get fired – to be clear, but I wouldn’t do anything PM-related again. Not ever! I’m done.
Or maybe I would for the proper org (proper according to me) because I’ve had some really great bosses and experiences along the way. I would like for my current org to become proper, according to me.
I can sum up the last four years with one word: boreout (which is even more soul-crushing than burnout). Endless cycles of being overlooked, bypassed, and forced to fit the round peg that is project management into a square organization. I am not saying it was done, or is being done, intentionally, but either way, it’s affecting me.
Good thing I have my creative life to challenge and intrigue me; otherwise, I might end up with Alzheimer’s due to lack of stimulation.
There’s a mix of frustration and sadness, because I still give a shit, I say I don’t care, but I do. Still. But mostly, there’s a deep, gnawing sense of being devalued via underutilization.
And if you didn’t know, unused talent is the eighth waste in Lean. (Look it up if you like, I’ve gotten used to people second-guessing my every word.) My experience and insights have gone unused for years. Of course, when it comes out of someone else’s mouth, human (white male mostly) or AI, people (mostly white and brown men) are like, “Oh! Now I get it.”
I can see how this environment wore me down, piece by piece. And if you’d told me that could happen, that I could become a byproduct of my work environment, I wouldn’t have believed you. But I guess the same thing applies to corporate: “Watch the company you keep.”
For what it’s worth, I’m the longest-lasting PM this organization’s ever had. That says a lot about my grit, my belief in what we are working towards. It also explains everything that drove the others out.
Here’s what I’m holding onto: I remember who I was before I started here and who I was in the first two to three years here. I remember all the knowledge I have, with:
- projects
- programs
- portfolios
- capacity management
- project financial management
- vendor management
- JIT/C inventory management
- purchase orders and procurement
- workflow and process improvements
- disaster recovery/business continuity
- “The show must go on” planning
- Agile (scrum) and waterfall development
- … I could continue, and I should, but I won’t
I sometimes wish I were in an environment where I could use most of that and keep growing. And yeah, some of it is rusty, but if I were exposed again, it would come right back.
The one thing I am grateful for is implementing the OKRs. Definitely! And that made me know that strategy is something I’d love to get into.
I’m getting back to my old self, one piece at a time (like the liquid terminator guy). That won’t make a difference here, because the company is the way it is. I’ve spent years creating things no one uses, so I would be foolish to think that’s about to change.
It feels better than fabulously fantastic to recognize myself again. I know shit! And in addition to knowing shit, I am ready, willing and able to learn and do shit!
Sat, Sep 27
© 2025 Samantha Williams. All Rights Reserved.
