Hold on to that rage, keep it handy

Incompetent people are a drain on my wellbeing. They, through sheer ineptitude and moronicity, conspire unknowingly to ruin my day, week, career, whatever. What's worse is when these same thickheaded cretins are in positions of influence, in which case their incompetence is magnified a thousandfold. Painful as that scenario may be, it pales when compared to the notion that these incompetent, influential fuckwits have control (in part) over me or my doings or outcomes.

Dealing with admonishment from someone whom you know is barely capable of doing their own job much less dealing criticism of yours gives rise to a peculiar variety of seething rage. You have not been abused, punished or harmed in any direct way, so that white crystalline anger one might experience in such a situation is coloured, cut with doubt, by your tormentor's palpable ignorance of the effect they have caused. So there you are, dribbling with a feverish fury that is rapidly congealing into a black cyst but unable to adequately articulate it as any outburst on your part is immediately interpreted by others as a rank overreaction and perhaps a cup of tea and lie down might do you the world of good says Matron Mappleby.

That said... Fuck! What a cunt. What a blithering, limelight seeking, coat-tail riding, self-preservationist solicitous scab ridden incompetent cunt.

What should I do about? Start a Facebook group? Fuck that in the eye.