Monthly Archives: November 2012

Giving 100%

My job still sucks and though in my last post I made definitive plans to resign after the holidays, I have waffled back and forth from that, to just not showing up again FUCKING EVER to walking in (yesterday) and giving my notice.  Guess who showed up at work today having NOT given her notice?

Yeah.

The crushing guilt of not having an immediate job to go to; leaving Bruce to be the sole income bringer-inner and the fact that I know my leaving will totally-fucking-hose some of the people I work with that I consider to be my friends has made me begrudgingly show up and suffer  through the shit-show.

Fuck.

We had a manager’s meeting the other day.  I was less than enthusiastic about it because A) I had to listen to shit that had nothing what-so-ever to do with ME and B) because I was already about four fucking hours behind schedule processing payroll for OMFG SO MANY PEOPLE due to a sudden and horrible HR investigation that had to be done by yours truly.

I drew a picture during said meeting while NOT listening to people yammer on about… you know what?  Who fucking cares?

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That’s right. It’s a shitty drawing of my cat in her litter box because that’s how I feel about my job and this stupid fucking meeting. Above that is where I was so enthralled with the meeting I drew an outline of my cell phone.

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Cheers ~ SF


The Quitter

Fuck, Internets.  What can I say about my lack of doing anything with this blog anymore?  Oh, I know!  How about the fact that my job is sucking my will to live and I have no desire or energy to do any of the things that I like to do anymore?  I mean lately.  Whatever.  Things that I may not necessarily be good at, but goddamit, things I like.

Writing?  Sure I use horrible language and my punctuation and sentence structure are questionable at best but I like doing it ‘n’ shit.

Reading blogs I have come to know and love?  Forget it.  I manage to read a few but then just put my Sponge Bob jam-jams on and curl up on the sofa and hope sleep comes soon.  It never does.

Taking pictures and learning new ways to process them?  LOVE it!!!  But I don’t do much of that anymore either.

Sitting on the basement steps listening to my husband’s band create musical awesomeness?  I now find myself letting them do their thing while I sit in the living room and I just crank up the volume on Intervention or Hoarders so I can TRY to see that my life isn’t so bad.

Cooking?  I love shopping for ingredients, trying new recipes and cooking for my husband.  Bruce is now about 100 pounds and looks as if he may have Rickets or some shit because there is only a rotted onion, four ketchup packets and a bag of limes in the fridge.  The limes are for my vodka so I’m doing fine. (HA!)  Poor husband.

*le sigh*

I can’t go on like this anymore.  I can’t keep letting the shitty shit-ness of my work life suck the happy out of my home life anymore.  It’s not healthy and it’s not good.  I did not arrive at this decision easily, but I am going to resign from my job after the holidays.

Why after the holidays?  Because I have some sweet-ass paid time off coming up and a company funded “meeting” at a winery next month.  Whaaat?  I meant to say that I’m a really great employee and I don’t want to leave them high and dry for the events coming up in the next two months.  Shut up.

As I write this I am huddled in my chair at my computer desk with my headphones on, holding my head from time to time, listening to the heaviest of music at the highest volume, ignoring my husband and our guests because I just can’t be social right now.  Writing didn’t used to be this difficult.

*le sigh sigh*

For the next two days I will process and transmit payroll for about 350 people while dealing with all of the HR issues and other random shit that pepper me all the live-long-fucking-day.  Ugh.  Shoot me now.

It wouldn’t be so bad if people weren’t such assholes.  The photos below will give you an idea of what I deal with and how I would LOVE to respond to the shit-show that is my job.

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A polite request. This should do the trick.

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They’re still knocking? Fine. I’ll drop the please. Surely they’ll see that I’m serious.

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Well now you assholes don’t get a “Thank You” in fancy font.

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…and so it goes

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Irritated. Not unstable. Yet…

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Apparently everyone I work with is illiterate.

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Where’s my taser???

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Where is my escape hatch????????

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WHYYYYYYY?????????

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I really really do.

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This one makes me smile because…soon…

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Cheers ~ SF