I thought maybe the week was going to be getting better. I mean, there were only two work days left and the big things I had due, I'd turned in well before deadline. There were revisions, of course. Lots and lots and lots of revisions. But it was almost the weekend. How much worse could things get?
"A good deal worse," would be the answer to that question. Today, I was accused of plagiarism. Maybe "accused" is a bit strong. The accuser did say "plagiarized" twice. It's a long, complicated story, but I needed to write something on a fairly complex topic while only having available to me a couple of citeable sources. These sources were fairly useless, of course. So, I had to read up on the topic and then regurgitate what I'd learned in my own words.
That is what I did. In fact, I was particularly proud of the sentence the accuser read to me when she asked, if she were to go back and look at any of the sources I told her I'd read as background (because she didn't believe on the first go-round that I'd looked at more than the mostly useless sources), would she find that sentence anywhere in them? My brain was already fried, as she called five minutes before I was going to walk out the door. But her questioning left me speechless for a moment. I was so shocked initially that it kind of just rolled off my back. Only on my way out of the building did my throat start to get tight and my eyes start to sting.
At least I know for sure now that this woman hates me. No one else working on these projects -- even the person who essentially copied my first profile -- has been treated the way I have. See, the woman in charge of this project is the one who did my training when I started. There were a number of times I hinted that I thought she might not like me. She asked why I thought she'd given me something to work on or something like that. I said, "I figured it's because you hate me." I was mostly serious. She's the reason I was constantly seeking refuge in the loo to hide my tears from my coworkers; the way she treated me led my coworkers to believe I was going to quit within a month of starting.
The ridiculous thing is, if I had plagiarized, I wouldn't have spent the bulk of the past two weeks totally spinning my wheels and agonizing over these stupid fucking things.
Work is the last place in the world I want to go tomorrow. But I can't call in sick, because there is too much work to do. I can't even work from home, because our remote connection has been jacked all week.
If I get through the work day tomorrow, I'm going to get absolutely shitfaced tomorrow night.