This Is My Life

So I have no idea why I got his crazy notion to start blogging about my life. It’s not like I’m ultra glamorous and there is such excitement going on. I’m just a normal person working a normal 8-5, Monday through Friday. Pretty boring, eh? My job sucks. The pay sucks, but the job market out there is so crappy. I’ve put in at least 20 applications/resumes in the past month and haven’t gotten a single interview. Maybe I’m over-qualified. Or maybe the jobs I apply for are just unobtainable. Either way, something needs to come up soon before I go freakin’ crazy. My job is simple. I’m a scheduler for a busy clinic. Too bad 90% of the people that call are fucking idiots…but that’s another story. Anyway, there are 5 of us that answer phones and I’m the top performer. I, alone, usually take half of the calls each day. You think that would make me the untouchable golden child, right? WRONG. My boss hates my guts. She always critiques me and treats me like I’m an idiot. Seems like I’m always getting called into her office or getting a dreaded “bad girl” e-mail. So get this, my boss gets really sick and has to be out on medical leave for a month. How horrible am that I wish she would be out longer?! Apparently she had to have some kind of stomach surgery and secretly, I was gloating when I heard the news. “Serves the bitch right” kept ringing in the back of my mind as I kept a straight face and listened to the interim supervisor talk about her condition. “She deserves it for all the ulcers she’s caused me”, I kept thinking. When at work, I’m so addicted to acid reflux medication and this herbal “nerve tonic” that I pop like candy. Funny enough, I haven’t taken either of those meds in the month that she’s been gone. That will change next week when the Queen Bee returns to her hive. Maybe you think I’m over exaggerating. I’m not. I started working at this place 5 years ago. Ever since I started at the young age of 21, this person (in order to protect the identity of the criminally insane, lets call her Loopy), had had it in for me. I remember one time when she got in my face as I left the office and started screaming at me (in front of everyone), telling me I was a disgrace to the office and I was the worst employee she’s ever had. Why did she tell me this? It was Friday (jeans day, YAY!), and I was wearing a pretty pair of light blue jeans with embroidered flowers on them, a pink shirt and white tennies. That day I got called in to do a peer interview with a potential employee and that’s what the horrendous crime was. Apparently, I was supposed to know that during these interviews I was not allowed to wear jeans. Well, wouldn’t it have been nice to have gotten that fucking memo before I got Loopy spit all over my face?! I remember running downstairs to wallow in self pity and cry on my boyfriend’s shoulder (he also worked in the same building at the time). That was the final straw and I became a VERY part time employee after that since I got offered a job in another town that was commuting distance and which offered more pay. I was in heaven! Fast forward to present day. “Why the hell are you back then?!” you ask. Well, all good things must come to an end. Flash back briefly to November 2009. I took a few days of vacation at my old job and when I come back, BAM, the petty cash bag that was in my locked desk drawer was gone. Of course, being that I was the one who signed for it, I was held accountable. Forget the fact that I wasn’t even in the office or the fact that I had locked the fucking thing up…Nope. It was all my fault. So I quit my job rather than being fired for a miniscule $100. The peeps I worked with even volunteered to throw cash in to replace the missing $100 since everyone knew I didn’t take it. But nooooo. The heifer in Human Resources said I wasn’t “careful enough and didn’t protect the assets of the organization well enough”. Fuck her in the ear with the Americana Dildo. In cleaning my desk out when I handed I my letter or resignation, I learned something that pissed me right off. The drawer above my locked drawer could be removed and that left open access to my “locked” drawer where the money was. I also discovered (while having lunch with a former co-worker), that this temp girl that had been working there in the office was arrested for stealing the wallet of one of the PA’s in the office. She had several credit cards, etc on her person when she was arrested. Apparently she had a history of theft. At that moment I KNEW it was that bitch that took the money. The day before my vacation, she had been interested in how much money was in my drawer and she was acting super sweet to me, when before she had done nothing but give me some disgusted up-and-down looks. She was using the excuse that she needed change for lunch in order to ask all these questions. Too bad it was too late to do anything about it. May that bitch rot in jail. So when that happened, I had no choice but to come back to my dreaded part time job and beg for a full time position. The bills still needed to be paid, and this was my only option at that exact moment. So I ended up in Trisha’s office (my supervisor, who’s name is being changed to reflect her actions) crying my eyes out and telling her I got laid off (not at total lie), and begging for hours. She took pity on me and told me that there were plenty of hours for me and she put me to work right away. It wasn’t without Loopy coming in and ragging on me first, though. She gloated as she told me that she had been planning to fire me as a part time employee because she didn’t feel I was “on the bus”, but would give me one more shot since I was so pitiful (she didn’t say the pitiful part, but I knew what the dumb cunt was thinking). So here I am. Stuck in a job that I hate that pays a measly $11.09 an hour and popping pills just to make my existence in this shitty office a bit more tolerable…all the while dreaming of committing homicide with a stapler. Which, if I may add, I don’t even have! I have a tiny desk about 4 feet across with a computer and a phone. I have purchased all the rest of my office supplies myself. All my supplies get taken home with me at the end of each day or get locked in my small, dark gray military-esque cabinet that looks like it was a leftover reject from the 1950’s. I am cautious about what I lock up since we all know what can happen when you lock important items up (insert rueful laugh). Ok, anyway, that’s all for now. People are lurking around my desk and I don’t feel as though I have adequate privacy to type any longer. Heaven forbid one of my co-workers should see my typing, especially the ever nosy “Jeff” (name changed to protect privacy again, of course). Until next time… -Miss A

My Disclaimer

Ok, so I am a 27 year old female, legal in all aspects...so items I may talk about in this blog may NOT be suitable for children (or the narrow minded). I will speak my mind, talk about everything that's happening in my sub par life, and may (ok, ok... WILL) cuss. A LOT. Don't send me messages complaining about my language or views because, hey, I told ya it wasn't all going to be sugar and spice. So read on...if you're brave enough.

YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

BTW...If you want to complain, compliment, etc, you can write me at: FabulousMissA@ymail.com


-Miss A