Want to earn my everlasting resentment?
Question my integrity.
I... well, I wouldn't call it "got in trouble," but my attention was called.
Musketeer must now "keep track" of my work... the exact detail of my work.
NO ONE else is going through this. Just me.
Who had that idea?
Guess.
WHY THE FUCK ARE BITCHES SO GODDAMN CATTY?!?
Somehow, the boss is under the assumption that I sit there for NINE FUCKING HOURS doing jackshit.
I DON'T EVEN CHECK MY FUCKING PHONE when I work! I DON'T EVEN FUCKING EAT!!!! (I HAVE taken a grand total of THREE pee breaks in the last TWO WEEKS I've worked... which I'm sure is probably a total of five minutes... my bad)
How the hell are people suspecting I just sit there and fuck around?!
I was so upset, I nearly cried.
I work hard, and I stick to my task. I ALWAYS have, regardless of what the stupid task may be, regardless of my age, regardless of WHO fucking asks me.
I didn't earn a Biology degree by being a lazy fuck. I DID NOT.
I don't cut corners.
I do my motherfucking job, and I try to make it THE BEST FUCKING JOB ANYONE can make. I'm stubborn like that. I'm a perfectionist like that.
Kelley suggested I let these bitches have it on my last day... and originally, I had said no.
Not the case now.
I have no idea when exactly this stupid job will end... but when it does, I'll have my opening line prepared:
VAYANSE A LA VERGA, VIEJAS PUTAS! PUDRANSE en este ESTUPIDO "trabajo" que tanto pelean!
Fuck. I always hate it when Mom or D come home and vent their work frustrations... and it appears I do the same fucking thing. Shoot me now.
(I'm just glad I really don't have to deal with this shit behavior, since it's not my permanent job. I feel so much for anyone who has to put up with asshole coworkers. That's just some bullshit right there)
Question my integrity.
I... well, I wouldn't call it "got in trouble," but my attention was called.
Musketeer must now "keep track" of my work... the exact detail of my work.
NO ONE else is going through this. Just me.
Who had that idea?
Guess.
WHY THE FUCK ARE BITCHES SO GODDAMN CATTY?!?
Somehow, the boss is under the assumption that I sit there for NINE FUCKING HOURS doing jackshit.
I DON'T EVEN CHECK MY FUCKING PHONE when I work! I DON'T EVEN FUCKING EAT!!!! (I HAVE taken a grand total of THREE pee breaks in the last TWO WEEKS I've worked... which I'm sure is probably a total of five minutes... my bad)
How the hell are people suspecting I just sit there and fuck around?!
I was so upset, I nearly cried.
I work hard, and I stick to my task. I ALWAYS have, regardless of what the stupid task may be, regardless of my age, regardless of WHO fucking asks me.
I didn't earn a Biology degree by being a lazy fuck. I DID NOT.
I don't cut corners.
I do my motherfucking job, and I try to make it THE BEST FUCKING JOB ANYONE can make. I'm stubborn like that. I'm a perfectionist like that.
Kelley suggested I let these bitches have it on my last day... and originally, I had said no.
Not the case now.
I have no idea when exactly this stupid job will end... but when it does, I'll have my opening line prepared:
VAYANSE A LA VERGA, VIEJAS PUTAS! PUDRANSE en este ESTUPIDO "trabajo" que tanto pelean!
Fuck. I always hate it when Mom or D come home and vent their work frustrations... and it appears I do the same fucking thing. Shoot me now.
(I'm just glad I really don't have to deal with this shit behavior, since it's not my permanent job. I feel so much for anyone who has to put up with asshole coworkers. That's just some bullshit right there)
2 comments:
Remember what I also said? Offer's on the table.
I mean.. you'll have an alibi.. because you'll be there the entire time.
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