You fucked up. You fuck up a lot, but are usually able to save your ass, or someone else saves it for you. This time you blamed it on me, and since nothing was in writing it came down to your word against mine.
You sat there and lied to my face (although it's possible that you actually believe your lies, which perhaps excuses you) and watched me get fired from my job that I've had for almost five years.
Then you got up, went into your office, and continued your self-absorbed, odd task of taking pictures of yourself every day. Yes, the Daily Photo is an important part of your routine, using your company laptop, often on company time. Who does that?
This is who:
I don't think your collection of crosses will save you in the long run.
