Oh yes, listen to this audio clip:
Nothing but the truth, so help me God.
Yeah, those two weeks of vacation were nice and all, but having to come back to work this week has been about as fun as passing a kidney stone. To see the utter nuclear holocaust which was my desk and how everyone decided it was okay to dump tons and tons of paperwork, case files, and other junk there made me wanna cry. How inconsiderate of my co-workers and my supervisor to not order them to keep my area clean and my job going whilst I was away. It was as if Hurricane Katrina had passed through, without all the flooding.
I am no longer in doubt that my current job has reached its limit with me. Like the Ron Livingston character in the brilliant comedy film Office Space, I've had it. Finito. Done. It's over. I no longer enjoy it nor care for it. Save for a few good brilliant minds there who are also sadly trapped by their financial responsibilities and have to go to work like me, I hate most of the countless jerks and beatches that I work with there.
Not to call myself incredibly competent or master of my domain mind you, but I do feel I work hard and put in my best effort. But I feel constantly underappreciated. Scolded. Depended on to just do it all because I'm young, a guy, bilingual, and supposedly strong. Well EF THAT! I too get tired and stressed. I deserve more and want more out of life. Not this! Four and half years doing this shit is enough to make anyone wanna gouge their eyes out! And no office job, not even the one I recently applied for to promote myself and get more money will solve this. These hideous cubicles with office supplies, that ghastly computer, and the surrounding sea of fecal humanity are nothing but disguised prisons illuminated by the fluorescent lights above! UGH!
It's like being in a foreign country where so many of the idiots I deal with have the English skills of a goat. There's the asshole mail clerk who gets away with screaming at everyone and nothing is done to fire his lame loser oogly ass. My supervisor who really should work for me, in that my brain capacity is ten times more advanced, but since she holds the title, well then I guess she gets to tell me what to do right? EF THAT! Yeah, the benefits are great and all, but this kind of misery is not worth my happiness.
So, my plan is either to :
(a) just vent and blow hot air for tonight and continue in my pain.
(b) take a medical leave for a good long while and exhaust all my extra vacation and sick time and then some.
(c) go to work and start massively rebelling by not doing my job and falling apart with true complete apathy (under the stupidity and overworked guise) and see how far discipline takes me.
(d) masturbate and ejaculate on my keyboard in front of my co-workers.
(e) Simply go to the PA system and utter the words, "F**K YOU ALL, GOOD DAY" and quit.
While (d) and (e) would be great and awesome shocking rebellion tactics, I kinda like (b) and (c). Yeah, maybe it's time to revolt, but in the most subliminal, conniving, and treacherous way. Slowly but surely, I must ease my way out of this job until I can securely just one day: QUIT.
I admit, my choices in life are my sole responsibility and I am where I am at because of them. My fear of taking risks and my complacency have lead to this stage of my life. Hey, no regrets right? We learn as we go along. I've been slow, but it's never too late.
I pray and hope my procrastinating skinny ass takes action.
Because the time has come to change my underwear...
"This job, is an abortion! Placenta and all!" ---my beloved co-worker Lord William of the Earlshire.