"I had a late term abortion and was black balled in Hollywood." -- Toni Collette, absorbing to upend
A few insensitive emails crowing about sexual satisfaction does not amount ipso facto to a sexual harassment case. I have put a good deal of study into it, but Linda pressed the bar pretty close, because when I lost my temper and plowed into her things became pretty dire for me at Liberty. Cassie and Tom can't answer for what happened. Cassie and Tom were not back running the center Linda was in charge and I had a meltdown. My Aunt Roe supported my desire to file a lawsuit. My mother didn't. "You'll never work again," she inveighed dramatically, and in point of fact I haven't been able to find anything to keep me out of extensive travel, but Linda did indeed violate state law by contravening right to work guidelines, in a deliberate struggle with her boss, and this is what I'm pissed off about.
I turn to this spastic Jewish princess in a great deal of trouble, allow myself to get snowed, traumatized, and eat another seven years of it by coordinators who get defensive if your intelligence threatens their superiority, and then in comes the minority housing managers to join the battle. I have nothing to assure me that things won't worsen significantly within the next 36 months, and even this Seuss imprimatur, in sentient moments, told me to hire an attorney. Easier said.
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