Ballad of a Thin Man

Today. Absolute low regarding work. My attitude was better, not bitter. I realize that they simply want to get rid of me. The posting was clear enough. Believe me, they don’t want me there anymore, than I want to be there. I’ve figured out that John McGruff has picked my brain regarding what I think a receptionist should make. I did apply to the job to let them know that I know what they’re doing.

Of course I did it all with a smirk on my face, which by the way can’t be transmitted through email. With the fact that Christina, who is generally a nice person, has received double what I’ve gotten for a bonus, it makes it all apparent that it’s definitely time for me to go.

If I get the position I interviewed for, I will have no problem. If I don’t, then I will have to remain in this particular circle of hell, or wait for them to offer me money to go. It’s rather surreal to find the job that you do being posted online. I don’t think they anticipated the fact that I was on the job search engine, the very same engine that they had posted.

Christina has no idea on what I do, yet she’ll be the one to do my job. She really doesn’t have much of a clue to anything really. Her grammar is atrocious, and her skills aren’t all that. I also heard that she really stresses out when I’m not in. She stressed out today.

I injured my back moving some boxes of copier paper. That combined with my increasing stress levels caused a lot of pain. “Hope” type of pain. So I left work early. I wasn’t offered a car service home, merely told to get better. I left the office and faced the bracing wind which was infinitely better and more welcoming that the atmosphere inside the office.

The shape my back is in now, I doubt if I’ll be able to make it to work tomorrow. So I have alternating moods. I get angry, I get hopeful. Not very easy to deal with. Right now, I’m ok. It was depressing. All this shit happening at the end of the year. Perhaps they’ll pay me to leave and offer me a severance package. That would be nice. I doubt it though.

I’m sure you’re tired of reading all about this shit drama. I know I’m tired of writing about it. I will be glad to have these tired ass fat and lazy butches, incompetent presidents, impotent managers all behind me. It can’t happen soon enough. I’ve fantasized about giving my two weeks notice. I used to fantasize about me and Colin Farrell, but now it’s come down to this.

They aren’t just jacking me around. They’re messing with the tech guys, and a few others in the office. Not a very pleasant scene, just my situation is the most blatant. There is my nuclear option that they have no idea about. An option that will catch them with their pants down, and with what could be egg on their face. Or maybe it’s merely post bukake.

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