on the creation of meaning

so here's the deal. my workplace is going up in flames right now. for the past two years i have worked for people who do not hesitate to abuse, condescend, and discriminate against those beneath them. i can state with certainty and no exaggeration, that they have ruined lives of innocent, well meaning people whose only shortcoming was how close they were to retirement. who just refinanced their home. who had two children to feed. who were fresh out of college with no other job experience. they tried to come after me too, which ended with me developing a stress disorder and filing pages after pages of evidence with central human resources to protect myself (thank you ivy league education, for teaching me how to write 20 page papers under duress).

well, one of those people left a few weeks ago, and another is on her way out in a month. that leaves only one naked and defenseless without his band of bullies to back him up. everyone who they terrorized is breathing a sigh of relief, and waiting to push the play button on their 'ding dong, the witch is dead' playlist.

before this job i never thought people could be so ugly inside.
before this job i never thought the type of meaningful social change i would be creating is ousting these snakes from the underbelly of corporate america.
before this job i never knew victory could feel so pyrrhic.

i take comfort in the seeming efficacy of karma.