06.24.03 . 8:27 a.m.
442: Up Yours, Sage!

..tomorrow is my two year anniversary that i've been at this job.

TWO YEARS!...of what? of working for nazis? of working at a dead end position that i couldnt care less about? making barely enough to live off of. dealing with fucking crabby people all day for 8 hours. clocking in. clocking out. filling out time sheets every monday like clockwork. dealing with bitchy customers who think it's my problem that their phone isnt working. (mmhmm, because *I* didnt pay *my* bill, right asshole?)

TWO YEARS...with absolutely nothing to show for it except a little bit of vacation time and nothing more.

& tomorrow, someone will walk over to my desk whos never met me before, and even if they've seen me in the hallway, theyve never introduced themselves or shown a slight inclination of a smile, and they'll hand me a piece of paper, freshly printed off, with a stack underneath it of more just like mine, only with different names, and it'll have something trite on it like "congratulations TIFFANIE ______" and she'll smile and lay it on my desk.

and this...THIS will make it all worthwhile, folks. a congratulations from a complete stranger. give me a goddamn raise that MEANS something, wouldya.

someone get a gun & shoot me. because i loathe my job & im to much of a chicken shit to up & leave and find a job that would truly inspire.


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