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Suck My Balls!!!
May. 17th, 2002 10:25 pmGot up at oh my god o'clock this morning after about one hour shy of enough sleep to go to my sucky disgusting PTSD-inducing job. Was remarkably cheerful after a round of wake-up sex and arrived on time to open the sucky disgusting PTSD-inducing shop. As I unlocked the door, I noticed something was wrong.....
Wrong thing #1-the lights were on. I assumed whoever closed last night got drunk or something and forgot to turn them off as I thought I was the only one there as I usually am at It's too fucking early o'clock on a Friday and then I noticed....
Wrong thing #2-I heard music playing. Really funky. Then the PTSD-suffering manager came around the corner as I walked in and said...
Wrong thing #3-"Can I talk to you for a minute?" This never happens. I followed her into her sucky disgusting PTSD-inducing office and said....
Wrong thing #4-"I'm letting half the staff go because morale is low and I need people who are happy to be here. I also need people who maintain a regular schedule and you've been late and I need your keys." Oh and then to add insult to injury she said....
Wrong thing #5-"I know you've been having some personal problems lately and there's this place on Broadway...um...it's a clinic and um...If you tell them you're um...sexually...um....unconventional they'll give you low cost counselling. Here's your money." And then the icing on the cake...
Wrong thing #6-"If in a few weeks you decide you want to try working here again and you want to try to be happy about it I'll certainly accept your application. Here's some garbage bags for your stuff."
I thought about giving her the finger. I love getting fired without a warning shot. I love it when they let you think everything is fine and you're in no danger of getting sacked. I contemplated saying something passive agressive or completely insulting but I said absolutely nothing which I believe creeped her out just a bit. I also love it when people who talk about hanging themselves in their office and have been known to wail while working, "I'm dead and in HELL!" and have a paranoid schizophrenic internet boyfriend/pen pal/thing in an institution somewhere in Canada who sends them fruit baskets to work when they have the flu, and manages a sucky disgusting PTSD-inducing establishment tells me to get counseling. I'm almost positive the self-mutilating, MD 20/20 drinking, incense-burning girl who likes to hit herself with a hammer gets to stay because, well, she LIKES working there. And, well, she goes out for drinks with the manager. I'm sure she wasn't told to get counseling.
Fact of the matter is.... the job was kind of making ME feel like hitting myself with a hammer. Whereas it used to be an okay kind of place to waste time and collect migrant sex worker wages, in the last few months it's been a pretty awful place to work. It seems like everyone working there has been going through one personal crisis or another, seeming even less stable than usual and there's really only been one person I've looked forward to working with. There's been a lot of back-stabbing and shit talking at the workplace probably because business has gone from a slow crawl to an almost eerie dead silence with the occasional twitch. Substance abuse increased, feuds broke out and the witchcraft and satanism present was, well, a little disconcerting. I hate feeling like I have to do something fruity like psychicly protect myself from co-workers never mind the sucky disgusting PTSD-inducing customers. I've found myself feeling more and more mentally disturbed while being there and then after a few hours of leaving feel much better. Yes it was down right sucky, disgusting, and PTSD-inducing.
Now, really, should anyone feel like hitting themselves with a hammer after a day at work? How about bridge-jumping as a recreational sport? Drinking until puking or passing out or both? Walking down a dark alley at 3am? Probably not. The last time I worked I figured out it wasn't just a coincidence. If you only feel certain feelings after doing a certain thing is that a sign maybe?
"Doctor it hurts when I do this!!"
"Then don't do it."
Now the only thing is, I wasn't going to up and leave because a source of income is a good thing I was trying to get something lined up so I could be the one to say "You're crazy and creepy and you need counselling."
Fuck.
$75.00 severance pay and my pride has been wounded being fired from a sucky disgusting PTSD-inducing job.
Okay. Now we just lobotomize and/or sedate the remaining workers so they're happy to be making migrant sex worker wages in a sucky disgusting PTSD-inducing environment.
I'm happy to never have to show up at a shift there again. I'm just not happy about not having any freaking job. Well, things happen for a reason. It's not like I was making much, just enought to keep me in smokes and jolly ranchers and McDonald's french fries. Now doing laundry and getting ready to practice my stroke. (Pool that is) After this morning I had lunch and took a nap and had a sucky disgusting PTSD dream about the whole thing and I'm feeling much better now. A little creeped out now that I think about the last couple of months at work. Kind of glad to be out of there. Okay I'm really fucking glad to be out of there. I'll survive. I always do. At least I'm not hanging out with Rosemary and Anton anymore.
Please, practice whatever religion you like. Any magick, any ritual, just please be resposible for your demons okay? If you don't have the discipline don't do it.... Please? Don't get any on me. It just pisses me off and the workplace is just not the place for it. Grow up."
Okay I'm done with my "Don't get your satanism shit on me public service announcement."
Ohhhh... I'm feeling shell shocked. A little sick to my stomach and stuff. I'm not sure why exactly. Need to play pool.
Remind me not to work at sucky disgusting PTSD-inducing jobs making migrant sex worker wages ever ever ever again. I feel like I need a scalding hot shower now and maybe a sweat lodge and a soul retrieval while I'm at it. Thank god it's over. Starving with pride is better than eating in shame. And I'm sure I won't starve. Oh well.
More time to play pool while I look for work. My roommate will be happy. I can't count the number of times she's said, "why not just stop going to work? Having no money would be better. It's not worth it." Coming from someone who would stand to gain if I had more money I probably should have listened.
Well, I'll get over it. I just don't understand the intermittant urge today to curl up into a ball and cry.
Probably just PMS.
Sigh.....
* * * * * * * * * * * *
"If you really loved me you'd bring me the head of Eric Clapton on a platter."
"I guess I don't love you that much."
Wrong thing #1-the lights were on. I assumed whoever closed last night got drunk or something and forgot to turn them off as I thought I was the only one there as I usually am at It's too fucking early o'clock on a Friday and then I noticed....
Wrong thing #2-I heard music playing. Really funky. Then the PTSD-suffering manager came around the corner as I walked in and said...
Wrong thing #3-"Can I talk to you for a minute?" This never happens. I followed her into her sucky disgusting PTSD-inducing office and said....
Wrong thing #4-"I'm letting half the staff go because morale is low and I need people who are happy to be here. I also need people who maintain a regular schedule and you've been late and I need your keys." Oh and then to add insult to injury she said....
Wrong thing #5-"I know you've been having some personal problems lately and there's this place on Broadway...um...it's a clinic and um...If you tell them you're um...sexually...um....unconventional they'll give you low cost counselling. Here's your money." And then the icing on the cake...
Wrong thing #6-"If in a few weeks you decide you want to try working here again and you want to try to be happy about it I'll certainly accept your application. Here's some garbage bags for your stuff."
I thought about giving her the finger. I love getting fired without a warning shot. I love it when they let you think everything is fine and you're in no danger of getting sacked. I contemplated saying something passive agressive or completely insulting but I said absolutely nothing which I believe creeped her out just a bit. I also love it when people who talk about hanging themselves in their office and have been known to wail while working, "I'm dead and in HELL!" and have a paranoid schizophrenic internet boyfriend/pen pal/thing in an institution somewhere in Canada who sends them fruit baskets to work when they have the flu, and manages a sucky disgusting PTSD-inducing establishment tells me to get counseling. I'm almost positive the self-mutilating, MD 20/20 drinking, incense-burning girl who likes to hit herself with a hammer gets to stay because, well, she LIKES working there. And, well, she goes out for drinks with the manager. I'm sure she wasn't told to get counseling.
Fact of the matter is.... the job was kind of making ME feel like hitting myself with a hammer. Whereas it used to be an okay kind of place to waste time and collect migrant sex worker wages, in the last few months it's been a pretty awful place to work. It seems like everyone working there has been going through one personal crisis or another, seeming even less stable than usual and there's really only been one person I've looked forward to working with. There's been a lot of back-stabbing and shit talking at the workplace probably because business has gone from a slow crawl to an almost eerie dead silence with the occasional twitch. Substance abuse increased, feuds broke out and the witchcraft and satanism present was, well, a little disconcerting. I hate feeling like I have to do something fruity like psychicly protect myself from co-workers never mind the sucky disgusting PTSD-inducing customers. I've found myself feeling more and more mentally disturbed while being there and then after a few hours of leaving feel much better. Yes it was down right sucky, disgusting, and PTSD-inducing.
Now, really, should anyone feel like hitting themselves with a hammer after a day at work? How about bridge-jumping as a recreational sport? Drinking until puking or passing out or both? Walking down a dark alley at 3am? Probably not. The last time I worked I figured out it wasn't just a coincidence. If you only feel certain feelings after doing a certain thing is that a sign maybe?
"Doctor it hurts when I do this!!"
"Then don't do it."
Now the only thing is, I wasn't going to up and leave because a source of income is a good thing I was trying to get something lined up so I could be the one to say "You're crazy and creepy and you need counselling."
Fuck.
$75.00 severance pay and my pride has been wounded being fired from a sucky disgusting PTSD-inducing job.
Okay. Now we just lobotomize and/or sedate the remaining workers so they're happy to be making migrant sex worker wages in a sucky disgusting PTSD-inducing environment.
I'm happy to never have to show up at a shift there again. I'm just not happy about not having any freaking job. Well, things happen for a reason. It's not like I was making much, just enought to keep me in smokes and jolly ranchers and McDonald's french fries. Now doing laundry and getting ready to practice my stroke. (Pool that is) After this morning I had lunch and took a nap and had a sucky disgusting PTSD dream about the whole thing and I'm feeling much better now. A little creeped out now that I think about the last couple of months at work. Kind of glad to be out of there. Okay I'm really fucking glad to be out of there. I'll survive. I always do. At least I'm not hanging out with Rosemary and Anton anymore.
Please, practice whatever religion you like. Any magick, any ritual, just please be resposible for your demons okay? If you don't have the discipline don't do it.... Please? Don't get any on me. It just pisses me off and the workplace is just not the place for it. Grow up."
Okay I'm done with my "Don't get your satanism shit on me public service announcement."
Ohhhh... I'm feeling shell shocked. A little sick to my stomach and stuff. I'm not sure why exactly. Need to play pool.
Remind me not to work at sucky disgusting PTSD-inducing jobs making migrant sex worker wages ever ever ever again. I feel like I need a scalding hot shower now and maybe a sweat lodge and a soul retrieval while I'm at it. Thank god it's over. Starving with pride is better than eating in shame. And I'm sure I won't starve. Oh well.
More time to play pool while I look for work. My roommate will be happy. I can't count the number of times she's said, "why not just stop going to work? Having no money would be better. It's not worth it." Coming from someone who would stand to gain if I had more money I probably should have listened.
Well, I'll get over it. I just don't understand the intermittant urge today to curl up into a ball and cry.
Probably just PMS.
Sigh.....
* * * * * * * * * * * *
"If you really loved me you'd bring me the head of Eric Clapton on a platter."
"I guess I don't love you that much."
