…If It’s the Last Thing I Ever Do

August 19, 2008 at 2:23 pm (Work)

I gotta get outta this place.  In my inbox today was a snide email from Hateful Boss informing me that she did me the favor of signing my time sheet, but that I have been coming to work late lately, and if I continue to come in after 9 am, I will have to account for it on my time sheet.

That is some petty fucking bullshit right there.

Yes, technically she is right.  But she did tell me last year that she wasn’t one to worry about lateness as long as the work is being done.  Also, I work through my lunch every day at my desk because I have nowhere else to go.  Oh, yeah, and I have a fucking broken foot, and I had to crawl down the motherfucking stairs for three weeks.  So, suck my dick if it takes me a little longer to arrive in the morning.  Oh, and it’s the summer, in a school that doesn’t have summer classes!  (Not to mention that the assistant director cleared out 3 hours early every Friday for the entire spring semester).

I have a job interview tomorrow evening.  Everyone, cross your fingers, light a candle, start a novena, sacrifice a lamb, dance naked in the forest, do whatever mojo you can to help me get a new job at a living wage.



  1. yoko said,

    Gotta love those email communications that should be done face-to-face. Even better, stupid emails about lateness.

    Sending you lots of mojo and good wishes your way for interview success!

  2. Ten Feet of Steel said,

    You should e-mail her the picture of your death’s-head-yeti-yoda foot.

  3. Quiconque said,

    Excuse me, the accident did not render my foot excessively hairy. Whyfor you call it yeti?

  4. Ten Feet of Steel said,

    Sorry–you had referred to your leg as yeti before, so I conflated it in with the foot.

  5. Eve L. said,

    I will hope that stiatistical probability is in your favor.

  6. Quiconque said,

    The job interview went well, but they want to pay me too little money. I will not take it if it is offered. I doubt it will be, because I made clear that I want a decent salary.

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