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Shittiest. Day. Ever. And Not.
May. 31st, 2005 08:07 pmShit: Being a temp sucks. I wound up doing everything from data entry to lab prep to courier service today, and I can't even get a badge to go into the cafeteria and I keep getting eyeballed like I'm going to commit industrial espionage any second. My tempmaster (the man who says "You! Do this!" in a cute little British accent) put me on "reality hold" while he finished a conversation. "Reality hold"--when someone acknowledges your presence, and then tells you to wait while they finish more interesting things. I love being subhuman at work.
Reason I Can't Get Angry About It: I'm being paid $10 an hour to do work that, for the most part, a trained monkey could do. It's deadly boring, but it's good pay.
Shit: I come home to an absolutely filthy bathroom because Tiff needed to get her hair ready for a perm. She also used the last of the milk, and I can't afford more. I am that broke.
Reason I Can't Get Angry About It: It was a bit unavoidable, and she did leave me the last slice of pizza which is the only thing keeping me from slaughtering a small child and consuming his/her flesh right now. The broke-dom is entirely my own fault for splurging on CDs and manga.
Shit: I got into an accident on the way home from work. It was entirely my fault.
Reason I Can't Get Angry About It: Essie-car is, for the most part, absolutely fine. No one was hurt. My insurance is, as far as I can tell, not being cancelled. I discovered that Hondas are built way more solidly than Mitsubishis the hard way, and I also determined that I don't think I'm capable of escapist suicidal thoughts anymore. I also brought this down upon myself by invoking the Unspeakable Law and the Law of Averages--I bragged about my low insurance premiums, and I was lucky enough for find work right away out of college, so naturally my first day must suck hardcore.
Shit: I have to tell my mother that I got into an accident.
Reason I Can't Get Angry About It: I'm too busy being scared.
Reason I Can't Get Angry About It: I'm being paid $10 an hour to do work that, for the most part, a trained monkey could do. It's deadly boring, but it's good pay.
Shit: I come home to an absolutely filthy bathroom because Tiff needed to get her hair ready for a perm. She also used the last of the milk, and I can't afford more. I am that broke.
Reason I Can't Get Angry About It: It was a bit unavoidable, and she did leave me the last slice of pizza which is the only thing keeping me from slaughtering a small child and consuming his/her flesh right now. The broke-dom is entirely my own fault for splurging on CDs and manga.
Shit: I got into an accident on the way home from work. It was entirely my fault.
Reason I Can't Get Angry About It: Essie-car is, for the most part, absolutely fine. No one was hurt. My insurance is, as far as I can tell, not being cancelled. I discovered that Hondas are built way more solidly than Mitsubishis the hard way, and I also determined that I don't think I'm capable of escapist suicidal thoughts anymore. I also brought this down upon myself by invoking the Unspeakable Law and the Law of Averages--I bragged about my low insurance premiums, and I was lucky enough for find work right away out of college, so naturally my first day must suck hardcore.
Shit: I have to tell my mother that I got into an accident.
Reason I Can't Get Angry About It: I'm too busy being scared.
