I had just come out of a disciplinary hearing for throttling my manager. He was messing with my schedule. The one I toil so hard to regulate with my strategic overtime work. This ego-maniac was interrupting my life and I wasn't having it. He had changed the work schedule without my knowledge. Forcing me to work on the last week of the month. The week I consistently plan in advance for my month to month home visits.

I had a good mind to twist my wrists as his neck sat constricted in my hands. But I knew the outcome of such actions. My grip was broken by my frantic colleagues. Telling me not to do something I'll regret. They had no idea what I myself was preventing out of sheer will power. They truly believe they stopped the worst outcome. But it's probably good that they stopped me when they did. That feeling or … need … was not going away. That vindictive urge that had been growing for months on end.

I was at my wits end for all the sick leave and family responsibility leave and general leave that was interrupting my planned schedules to spend more time at home. What this idiot of a manager tried to pull was the last straw. Thanks to that single grain of sane morsel remaining somewhere in the far reaches of my mind, I let him live.

The big boss was not impressed. Neither were the two Human Resources representatives. The three of them had me cornered in the executive boardroom. Faces of stone perpetuated by the incessant drone of the aircon. Staring at me from the door to the chair and for most of my interrogation. Woeful disappointment on my boss’s face complemented by the determined faces to his right. The room had a dusty smell and a lifeless chill. Restricting my personality whilst prodding the unease within.

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I had to give my best sob story to get their sympathy. Put them in my shoes of suffering and mental anguish. It must have worked because they gave me a final warning. They said they understood my reasons for being upset but that my actions were inexcusable. “You’ve contributed immensely to the company and are always willing to sacrifice for the better good. I think you deserve a final chance. This was a once off thing that I don’t believe will ever happen again,” my boss said. “It’s not in your nature from my personal knowledge of the kind of person you are, I’m willing to vouch on that,” he stated.

I agreed to the terms they gave me for the sake of agreeing. Using body language to convey the living epitome of remorse. Head hanging low, slumped shoulders, slow measured responses. The whole shebang. That mouse of a manager must have thought I would return with a look of defeat and regret. Maybe apologise for my foolishness. Well, I had no choice. The charade needed to continue for the sake of the sympathetic angle.

My boss called us both in for a meeting. Had me follow through on one of the “final warning” conditions. “I’m sorry for what I did to you. It was not my intention to allow the situation to go that far. I sincerely apologise.” I said. In actuality, I could have taken the situation so much further than he’d ever know. He should’ve thanked the criminal justice system for his life. Without their laws, he wouldn’t be here right now. “I forgive you. Maybe I should’ve consulted with you about the schedule before changing it so haphazardly. I’ll most certainly do that next time,” he said. ’What a kiss ass,’ I thought. Forgetting that I was technically doing the same.

The next couple of days were spent with me eyeballing him with the meanest grimace my face could pull at every opportunity. I was letting him know subconsciously that next time I'll do worse than give him temporary loss of breath. Next time I’ll make him stop permanently. He hardly spoke to me after that. He better not mess with my personal life ever again.