Anti Employee!

My Unemployed Dreams Have Been Actualized

2007-11-29T17:12:00.000-06:00

Done and done!

I have officially joined the exalted ranks of the unemployed!!!

For the first time, I am writing this from my own humble abode. That's right, the deed has been done and I am finally enjoying having the responsibility level of a bum. I was laid off on Tuesday, along with the rest of the staff at my job. They let 10 people go when they let me go.

I will set the scene for you. On Monday our corporate boss was there and there was a rumor of a mandatory meeting to be held on Tuesday. Since I don't come in on Tuesdays because of school I asked if I needed to be there - thinking this might be the day because we have never had a mandatory meeting before. They told me I needed to be there at 9:00. I said I could not be there at that time because of school. Then they told me to come in at any time on Tuesday...a little obvious, don't you think?

So, I went into work on Tuesday at noon. I walked in and no one was there except the managers. At this point, I knew what was coming and I can honestly say it was one of the most exciting moments of the year. I went into the office and 5 minutes later I walked out with a jig in my step and three weeks severance pay in my hand. The shackles were off and the ball and chain was released. I gathered my things and left that shit-hole for the last time. It felt tremendous.

On the drive home, I must admit, I probably appeared a bit disturbed to any onlooker in another car. I was doing a lil scream-singing and a lil dancing...I totally geeked out!

The next day I filed for unemployment benefits, or as I like to call it, freeloader funbag research. I now have six months of freedom...if I play my cards right. The very fact that I am so proudly and gladly taking advantage of unemployment has conjured up a few thoughts in my mind. Should I feel guilty for taking advantage of a system that is designed for those that are truly down on their luck? Should I be proud to do so? and if so, what does that say about me?

Fortunately for me, as soon as those questions come up the bong finds it's way back around the circle. Seriously though, the system is obviously flawed, but while it is, I plan to utilize big brother's contribution to my life. I see it like this, I am doing research...six months of research for when I am a social worker. I must know what it is like to be unemployed if I am ever going to enact any social change regarding worker's rights. So, research it is, glorious, glorious research.

I hope the next half year treats you well...I know it will be exciting for me. I still plan to write and fill everyone in on my journey thru the freeloader funbag research highway.

Happy Holidays

2007-11-21T08:48:00.000-06:00

Finally, the fall break is in our presence…and not a day too early! It seems the buzz of the office has skipped the fall holiday entirely and shot straight to Christmas – and this was the case even before the last piece of sticky Halloween candy had been peeled from the carpet and eaten by that curious little rebel toddler. People practically break out in panic-induced hives of excitement the day wal-mart puts their first plastic tree on the shelf. Yep, you know it’s the consumer season in this office when the ladies spend every minute discussing what fantastic decorations and gifts their local dollar general has this time.

And what, you ask, will be the fashion in trash décor this season? Well, it remains to be seen, but I know, the ladies are ecstatically inspired by those “new cute lil coke bottles shaped like balls.” Yes, this year Bonnie, or as I like to call her – tweaker crafty mc’gives-a-lot, has started collecting and buying as many of those plastic balls filled with cola as she can find.

I commend her for her recycling efforts, but I think it defeats the purpose when you buy the cola for the sole purpose of recycling it. She also has high hopes for the dozens of cardboard drawers that are being recycled here. I am not too sure what kind of functionality can be fashioned out of old dusty mildewed cardboard, but she is obviously motivated to use them for something.

You know…I am poking fun at the ladies for their obsession with the holidays, but to be honest, I strongly encourage their fascination with creating art from trash and recycling materials rather than spending money consuming products that are only put to use once a year.

So, for any of you that are maybe contemplating making something this year for your beloved friends and family…I support this concept and advise all of those who are creatively minded or just low on funds, to make your gifts this year. There are too many reasons to do so – save your money and let your loved ones know you care for them. But, as a minuet warning and in the words of my father, “be prepared for the thoughtful gift to mean more to you than it does to them.” Occasionally the appreciation can be dull at best, but I still say its worth it – if they don’t like it, you can always take it back in glorious vengeance years later.

At any rate, the holidays are here and the rampage is just beginning. Hold on to your sanity, I have a feeling it is going to be a dirty month of unabashed consumerism. Have a wonderful day of feasting with family and friends. I ask everyone to stay conscious of the historical truths of the holiday, but still enjoy the gathering of love. Keep the love, and forgive the hate…but Never Forget. And make an effort to remember those for whom the day is sorrowful.

25 more days of work until the time of liberation!

¡Feliz de acción de gracias!

The Real Reason They Switched Our Boss...Dull and The Down-low

2007-11-14T10:42:00.000-06:00

Oh, things they are a changin'. We found out today that our boss from corporate has been changed. Don a.k.a. Dull is no longer our commander and chief. Our boss is now the super bad bitch Becci, known world-wide for her extravagant bitchy ways.

Why this new change? You ask. Well, at this point nobody knows, but I think I’ve got it figured out. See, Dull was a Canadian family man…somewhat of a superficial egotistical man…but maybe, just maybe, he was fooling us all!

Here's what I have come up with. In his early 20’s Dull was living his life of ill-passionate frail mediocrity, when a lonely day at home turned into an epiphany that changed the course of his life. He saw a special exposé on Oprah. This was not just any Oprah, this was the Oprah to end all Oprahs, the colossal fuck you to the FCC; ultimately the one that blew the lid off of Dull’s fantasies.

This Oprah was about the growing trend of living on the down-low. For those of you that are unfamiliar, “the down-low” is a euphemism for men that have families and wives, but are closet gays with men on the side. Suddenly Dull’s life became clear and on the down-low he went.

He married soon and his unabashed life of debauchery and decadence began and was skillfully masked by his inspired down-low plan. His beard was in full effect.

He worked his way to the top of the corporate ladder and enjoyed hours stalking the young neighbor boy Timmy and working out his frustrations with young poppin-fresh men. But, one day in March…things changed.

He had his 40th birthday and his mid-life crisis was sneaking up on him. Some people buy a Porsche; Dull bought a 22 yr old mail-order Laotian boy named Túc-Läo.

One languid day at work he decided to have a little rendezvous in his office. Túc-Läo brings his bag of props and Dull prepares to be dominated by his 110lb man-boy. The escapade barely commences when his 2:00 client enters to a horrific scene. They had all the props out, from the twisty stabbies to plunger plug-ups, clumpy pumpies to spiky gagies, horny copper thrusters to the very dangerous wicked whistle wankers (illegal in 39 states).

To the 68 yr old widowed client the scene was ghastly. She clutched her arm, gasped for air and fell to the floor prompting Dull's boss to come to her aid and he saw everything. He is shocked at the sight - jumper cables from the family van secured tightly to his perky nipples, his wife’s sizzling seductress red Maybeline smeared over his lips, and neighbor-boy’s WWJD bracelet forcefully circling his throbbing skin flute of love.

Dull and Túc-Läo packed up their things and Dull was immediately fired. His wife left him. The client was paid off to keep the distastefully bizarre situation private. And this, my friends…this is the real reason why Dull is no longer over our department.

Sure, they say it has to do with him moving to another department or something…ha – their transparent attempt is obvious to anyone with half a brain…I mean come on I can see thru this story. Their excuse is so sophomoric…oh, yeah; I am so sure he’s in another department…amateurs!

We’ll see if our new boss buckles under the pressure of the corporate curse…we’ll see.

35 days of work until December 31!

2007-11-07T06:59:00.000-06:00

I can feel it in my belly…today is going to suck. To be honest, I am beyond the point of just disliking work, my contempt for this place has made being here torture. I was so certain that they were doing layoffs the other day, so it is been hard for me to come back to reality and function. This place is like a parasite – it wont just let me go.

I am currently counting down the days until Christmas and the end of December. I feel like a kid counting down the days until santa comes, only my santa is my boss and all I want for christmas is my two-week severance pay with approved unemployment benefits....its really what every child grows up dreaming about.

Monday was one of those days where I just could not be here and I went home early. I figure when I go home early I kill two birds with one stone. I don’t loose hours because I use my vacation or paid time off, but it could potentially piss off the management. This way I am enjoying my day, doing things I like to do while simultaneously increasing my chances of being let go. I mean, if they really thought about it – they would realize they are just waisting money keeping me here. But they don’t, so here I am…waiting and waiting.

Sometimes I just cant believe the two polar opposites my personal and work life have become. I was discussing this with James the other day and I concluded it is not psychologically healthy to despise such a dominant aspect of your life. It's like a daily mind fuck of emotions. This is a reality for so many Americans and I can definitely see why our country is the way it is. Apathy for a portion of your daily life spills over and breeds apathy for everything that does not personally affect your everyday life. What is the effect of this?...George Bush as president, a war that few agree with, no health care, an authoritarian corporate America, an earth that is deteriorating fast, and on and on... Where we would be if the majority actually cared about these things?

35 days of work until Dec. 31!

The Lessons I Have Learned Here...What Not to Do

2007-11-02T09:03:00.000-05:00

Well…I am still employed. Unfortunately nothing happened yesterday and at this point, I am just happy it’s Friday. All Dull did yesterday was look at some new buildings and gave me disapproving stares for wearing jeans and for taking too long of a break. If he is pissed enough to glare shouldn’t he just do the damn thing already and get rid of me. Let’s both put ourselves out of our misery…it’s a win – win.

I honestly want to get out of here thru whatever means necessary. I kind of wish I could return to my former state of ignorance concerning data entry and all the worthlessness that entails.

You know, considering how much I bitch about this place, when I think about it I remember how many valuable life lessons I have learned here. True, most of it involves what not to do, but it is still a lesson. None of it really concerns the job I do, rather the people that I interact with.

When I examine these lessons further, they can all be summed up in a few important concepts: knowledge, education, and action. One does not always follow the others, but a formal educational institution provides a structure for a person to build their knowledge and then take action. Because of this I can not understand why someone would spend their entire life ignoring such a rewarding opportunity. I can understand bypassing the institution for whatever reason, but building your knowledge on your own and initiating action should be stressed and not overlooked.

This place and the people I work with have taught me to act. Be proactive, be assertive, and improve your current condition. Everyone can improve; we are all a work in progress – never finished until we are dead and no sooner. Granted, there is a lot to be said for experience, but what is experience for if one never learns, develops, and changes themselves. Dwelling in a uniform circumstance, content with no forward movement in any area of life for 20 years is senseless. This certainly justifies the cantankerous and disagreeable attitude that many people possess at my job.

A friend and I were talking the other day and he said something that made sense and summed it all up for me – it all comes down to a content nature. Being content with poor development, either personally or communally, is not an achievement. It leads to apathy when things are recognizably substandard and flawed. This kind of satisfaction with personal stagnation leads to problems that go beyond one’s personal life. Thier surroundings become affected and infected. The potential is there, but the initiative is lacking.

Well, I am making a promise to myself in response to the lessons I have learned at this retched place –I will educate myself via conventional and alternative avenues and I will not be content with dismal progress in my life. I will act…act…and then act some more to change!

James and the Giant Disfigured Man

2007-10-31T09:09:00.000-05:00

Tomorrow may end up being my day of salvation! We will see, but at this point here’s what I know – The big bad boss is coming in on Thursday and all the layoffs were said to be expected by November. This is why I am so anxious, but there are also other reasons he is coming too so it is hard to tell what will happen. I am honestly at the end of my rope.

This would be the perfect time to move because James just got laid off from the psychiatrist office he was working at. His boss Grant was…well, lets just say James could have written endless stories of his encounters with Mr. Plastic or monkey face as we all came to refer to him as. This guy had more plastic surgery than anyone I have ever met. Although I am not well acquainted with the posh upper echelons of life by the knife, I imagine that the end result of Grant’s face was not the initial intent.

I wonder why and how he decided to alter his appearance. He is pretty young, so I assume he was not content with the original and kept revising and reworking. It looks like a hodge-podge of cyclical botched surgeries and therefore corrective surgeries to renovate the inaccuracies. I wonder how many noses, cheeks, and chins he has gone thru.

His cheeks are heavily pronounced and very high. His lips are injected with so much collagen it looks like he had an allergic reaction to his daily McDonalds permanently altering his features. His nose has been reconstructed. His brows are of course waxed, like any respectable man; but his chin was the protruding entity that really tied the multiple facial implants together. I mean, lets just be honest, if he did not spring for that glorious chin extension he would have just looked silly. Oh, and to top it all off, the facial skin has been pulled so drastically tight you can almost make out the outline of the implants.

Who would ever feel confident taking psychotherapeutic guidance from a man who is radically unsound? It was the strangest thing though, he never admitted to having any work done. One day he came into work, head fully bandaged and wrapped with gauss. He told James’ sister he got in a car wreck despite the obvious signs of the knife…oh and not a scratch on his polished SUV. In reality, his appearance should reflect nothing of his practice; eccentricities are common with psychiatrists. unfortunately his method of mental assistance is just as reprehensible and negligent as his overhung and defected mug.

James was basically Grant’s assistant. He got him lunch, shopped for him, bought his make up, you know, the usual necessities of a man. The first week James actually liked the job. He got to work with his sister and her boyfriend and had a good time. That is…it was a good time until… plastic got mad.

He soon decided that James’ locks were inappropriate for the office and insisted James go to a big and tall store and find a baseball cap that would cover his 1 ½ ft. long locks. Yeah, that would look real nice with the tie he had to wear every day. Eventually Grant decided he could not afford to keep James and let him go. We were both relieved…neither James nor I wanted him working for such a mendacious man.

This pissed off James’ sister and the rest of the staff rallied around James and quit. It was a small office, but those four people were running the entire place. They did the filing, interviewed patients, handled the finances, and Grant was only good for the counseling, and I would not even consider him competent for that.

His psychiatric techniques were inapt at best. He diagnosed almost every patient as bipolar. He prescribed medication to children that was not approved by the FDA for kids – some of the pharmacists luckily disallowed this, but I’m sure some kids are currently taking possibly detrimental medication. His modus operandi is to make money any way he could. He constantly had his employees methodically exploring charts to find hidden expenses to charge the patient. He made patients wait for hours for their appointments and occasionally a patient would wait 3-4 hours until closing, only to have to make a future appointment. He was unethical and malicious and hopefully his damaging practices will cease with no staff.

It is my opinion that he was doing more harm than good to his patients. His approach to psychotherapy reminded of what I have read about 1950’s psychiatry… outstandingly experimental, Freudian defective, and often emotionally destructive.

So, here’s where we are - James is unemployed and if we moved to Norman, he would have a job. If I don’t get laid off, he will have to get a job here only to quit in two months.

Waiting, Wanting, & Weary

2007-10-19T08:05:00.000-05:00

Another week passed, another week wasted. Not much to update. I still hate this job, and I am still counting the days until the end. A new rumor has emerged about the lay-offs. Our corporate boss is coming in again around the 1st of November and everyone is just so certain that this is it, this is the time when we will all become…unemployed. Over the summer I remember him telling us that the lay-offs will happen by November, but you really can’t trust anything these people say.

Some of us are ecstatic and anxious about joining the ranks of the glorious unemployed, but some are predictably angry and distressed about the lay-offs. With families to support and deadbeat husbands to sustain, 80% of a paycheck is just not going to cut it. I feel bad for these ladies that are the only income for the household. They are the ones that are going to be stressed over the lay-offs.

When I discuss the unavoidable lay-offs with them, I get even more furious about the unethical and dishonest methods of this company. For their sake, I occasionally feel guilty for encouraging the process. Hopefully, they will productively exist in the system and succeed in their future endeavors.

I am not going to get my hopes up about the lay-offs like I did last time. The disappointment is just too much to bear. I will try to remain calm, but I’m getting restless here and I feel as though I can’t hang on any longer. I am anxious to move to Norman and I am even more excited about reconnecting with some old friends.

There is a new vegan restaurant there, so James and I can actually go out and eat without questioning the food. James already has a job secured there and I have been prematurely looking for a place to rent. I have, of course, found many suitable houses and apartments. All we need now is the permission to get the hell out of here. There is nothing to do but sit and wait. Wait for the end, for salvation, wait for the opportunity to move on, up and out.

The lay-offs have to happen eventually. We know they are inevitable; the torture though is waiting for the inevitable to be realized. Drastic measures are foreseeable if something doesn’t happen soon. I am so close to quitting but I just know if I quit, the next day will be the lay-offs. Oh, the boredom that ensues everyday has become the plague that is my life. Why have the gods cursed me so?

Of course I know I am fortunate to have a job in the first place and despite my sarcasm, I do appreciate that…but, damn can't a sista live off the system every once in a while? Eventually it will happen - I must keep the faith…faith in the inescapable yet lucrative downsizing procedures resulting in the illustrious unemployment system. Oh, what a life it will be…what a life!

Hai - Kind Asian Man By Day, Sadist Insect Assassin By, Well...Day

2007-10-10T10:41:00.000-05:00

So, it is Wednesday. My boss – Dull, got here yesterday and there was no luck. He did not come with any of his minions and no one got laid off. I still hold out a small bit of hope for today, but I am afraid I will have to put my hopes and dreams aside for at least a few more weeks, hopefully not months.

Honestly, I was certain that this visit was definitely going to yield a few teary eyes and one very ecstatic young girl. I can’t take the mind-numbing boredom here any longer. It used to be exciting up here. There was always a story to tell, and a character to describe. I never thought I would miss the dense, yet entertaining disposition of this office – but I do. At least for blogging sake…who am I kidding? I miss those slack-jawed yokels. I miss them like the dickens.

I miss their odd interpretations of life and facts. There are still a few people here that delight my day every once in a while. One of the more desirable people here is Hai. He is a little old Vietnamese man that fought in the Vietnam War but I'm not sure on which side.

He immigrated here in his 20s with his wife and landed in New York. He didn’t know any English but soon taught himself along with his wife on his own. He traveled around the country for a while discovering the beauty of his new home. He got a job as a truck driver to travel more and was soon drawn to our lovely bible state for its attractive diversity and progressive movements…ha.

I’m kidding of course, but there are many reasons to live here…like the low cost of living, unfortunately that is complimented by our poor minimum wage laws. How about our high obesity rate, maybe it would make some feel more comfortable and accepted. Maybe it was our ability to beat the status quo with 26% of residents living under the flawed poverty line.

Before you get your panties in a tiff – chill out – I’m just playing around, doing what many are so good at…dissing this state. It’s just so damn easy! Unfortunately its all true, one does not have to lie to make this state not look so hot.

Despite the truth, everyone here knows that if you find the right community, that meets all your personal or familial needs, it can be your second family, maybe even your only family. It is also a great state to raise a family…if you ignore the decrease of health care coverage for children. But hey, no state is perfect, right?

Whatever the reason, he moved here and was soon hired by this inept company. He has worked here for about 7 years and is the most gentle and kind hearted person I have ever had the pleasure of interacting with. He has a compassionate smile that illuminates all people within a 20 foot radius. His benevolence is something that I admire and would love to possess someday. Everyone loves him here and he can cheer you up with just a smile and a wink. I don’t think he could have an enemy if he tried.

He is a very short, small, spunky glow of a little man. He laughs at everything and I have never seen him without a smile. He is wise, even beyond his estimated 50 years of life. He advises us to take many pictures to remember the pleasures in life at every turn…to appreciate the good as well as the bad.

He told my boyfriend, James, and I one time that he could tell we were soul mates. He said that if anything ever came between us, to fight for each other and never give up on our passionate love, even when it gets too hard to endure.

He has given us copious amounts of well intended and easily accepted advice. Never harsh with his words and always astute. He apparently thought we were just the cat’s pajamas. He would literally say,
“Oh, James – you so cool, how do I be cool with you.” Or,
“You look so cool today … your clothes, hair, tattoos … so cool, so cool...”

Hai is full of life. He has stories for days and knowledge that, I think, people don’t fully appreciate all the time. He has worked immensely hard for everything he has. On his meager income here, he has paid for his son to go to college and after being inspired by him, he went to college and is doing well getting A’s in many classes.

Of course there is, well, this one little thing that Hai has made a habit of here that I would consider slightly…um…well, unpleasant in a curious child-like way. From the time my boyfriend James and I have worked here, Hai has had a tendency to capture and mistreat critters and any creepy crawly that has the misfortune of gracing his presence. If a modest creature enters into his eye line here…well, they’re doomed, for good. The critter will cease to exist, with reincarnation being their only hope for continued survival.

It’s nothing serious I guess, just a bit of obvious and innocent inquisitiveness resulting in insect genocide. It’s like every creepy-crawly is a novelty to him, a chance to get a rare glimpse into the phenomenon of biological life and death in nature.

He has done this to so many critters thru the years. It’s a side of Hai that many rarely see, only the insects are unlucky enough to feel Hai’s wrath. Here is a list of some of his attempted and successful victims:
- Moths, scorpions, caterpillars, worms, bees, crickets, spiders, beetles, wasps, etc...

He has been stung a few times during his escapades. Here’s what he does. When he finds an insect, he grabs it with his bare hands regardless of the danger and traps it in an observable receptacle. Then once the insect has been observed for a while, he will do any experiment his heart desires. He plucks off appendages, such as limbs, feelers, tentacles, stingers, and wings. His only choice of tool being his hands. He has pulled a stinger out of a wasp and a scorpion with his thumb and finger, its pretty crazy to see that.

Once he has everything effectively removed, he then parades the little guy around the office to show off his chosen surgical procedures. He goes from desk to desk,
“Look, look at it. I did that. No legs, no stings. Its okay, he can’t hurt. I did it.” With pride he exhibits the mutilated specimen.

Most of the office laughs or conveys a gruesome face of disgust. Once it has been displayed, he watches it over a few days as it dies an agonizing death of starvation and or suffocation. Then discards of the remains in the trash can.

He did this all the time with so much joy on his innocent face. I could tell he had a lot of fun doing this, and that he probably didn’t understand the social norms he was testing.

After we saw him do this a few times, James and I started counteracting Hai's countless insecticide atrocities. We kept an eye on Hai, and as soon as he would catch a critter we would set it free. We would sneak to his desk when he wasn’t looking, and in true animal activist fashion we would lift the lid and out the captive insect would crawl; completely unaware of the horrors it’s little life was about to face. We didn’t need our bolt cutters for this one, nevertheless it was still a risky job…but somebody had to do it. Hai soon began to marvel at the expert ability these insects had to set themselves free.

Most people don’t care about insects and would rather them dead and out of their lives. Our lives would be very different without the benefits provided by insects, and it is unlikely that we could survive on earth without them. We would not have honey or silk, dead animals would cover the ground, and we would know a lot less about genetics and biology.

I think that this was just Hai’s innocent curiosity at work, indicative of his desire to learn from everything. He still does this about once a month and with James gone, I now have to act as a solo proponent of freedom for these unlucky insects. I could see the entire insect population returning for revenge.

Maybe I'll Be Gone Next Week...See Ya' Around on My Fixed Gear

2007-10-05T08:24:00.001-05:00

There is a possibility that by this time next week I will be enjoying the good life … maybe. Yes, I could very well be sipping champagne, cashing unemployment checks, eating bon-bons, and watching cartoons all day long. Actually, if I get fired, I am really looking forward to doing some reading for pleasure rather than for school. I can’t stop thinking of all the potential this extra time will have…oh, the possibilities are endless.

The big bad boss is coming in next Tuesday and Wednesday and everyone has the feeling that this is the time for the layoffs. I am so anxious and that entire day will be torture to me because I am not here on Tuesdays, I’m in class. So, all day I am going to be wondering if everyone but myself is getting laid off.

I have been talking about this situation for so long, I feel like, just because of that, it will not happen. It’s like the universe will punish me for having such high expectations for my unemployed future. Is it wrong for me to desire a fortune of unemployment checks? I want to stock pile them and buy something luxurious, something superb, something radiant…like a fixed gear bike.

Yes, a fixed gear would be extraordinary! My brother put the idea in my head when he visited from Portland recently and I have to say, it sounds like the most reasonable way to spend my possible unemployment funds. Screw bills, rent and food…as long as I have a hot little fixed gear to rest my rump on, I will be happy!

My bro is full of knowledge about many things, one of which being the mechanics of a fixed gear bike, so he could help me convert a rad little 80’s 10 speed. It would give us a reason to spend time with each other. Apparently it can get pretty expensive and I think the program of unemployment support would be happy to assist me in my quest. A fine little engine I would be bombing thru Nompton on my fixed gear.

I guess we will know soon enough if this dream will become a reality. This will hopefully be the last full week I ever spend here. Although, my personal history would usually proves to be unsuccessfully ill-fated. Therefore, I’m sure just because of my enthusiasm, I will be condemned to serve another month in this institution.

Wish me luck next week!

Getting weary and anxious

2007-10-01T07:24:00.000-05:00

It seems as though I am no longer the only person here that has taken their responsibilities and flushed them down the toilet. Two of my other coworkers that work in the office with me have begun to play games all day long and basically do as little work as possible. Their knowledge of lazy habits is naïve and inexperienced because they are constantly getting caught. And I perceive them ruining it for me in the future. I guess they notice me goofing off, and they have become familiarized with doing the same.

The dichotomy of necessary work and the will to do nothing is ironic. You see, the sooner we get the work here done, the sooner the inventory will be processed and they wont need us. Essentially, if we work hard enough, we will work ourselves out of a job. My coworkers have noticed that, and because they don’t want to be laid off, they have decided that it is in their best interest to do as little as possible.

So, I may have to start working my ass off to make up for their lackluster performance. The problem with that is if I work hard then the chances of management laying me off for poor execution decreases. It is a peculiar conundrum I am in. I need management to see me doing nothing, so they will become frustrated and get rid of me, but the sooner this work is done, the sooner they can get rid of people. What to do, what to do?

I am getting nervous they won’t lay me off, and instead wait for me to quit. I am pretty sure that corporate is aware of my desire to leave, so they could use this to their advantage. I am concerned they are going to use the opportunity to lay some one else off in my place and wait for me to quit. Essentially, killing two birds with one stone. (which, in reality, I would most likely play right into their trap)

It drives me crazy knowing that they could end up winning and leaving me high and dry with nothing to show for my efforts. My write up is the only thing that is letting me hold on to any ounce of hope. I am under the impression that they won’t lay off some one with no disciplinary action instead of me. I am not sure, but I think it might be against regulations to lay off one person and keep another that has a written warning. I am frustrated, exhausted, pessimistic, and anxious about my situation and there is nothing I can do to make time speed up and give me a conclusion to my story.

I am nervous and apprehensive about my termination procedures. I just wish I knew what they were thinking!

Sleeping on the Job ... An Emmerging Talent of Mine

2007-09-28T08:42:00.000-05:00

Well, the end of the week is here and it could not have come any sooner. The past few days have been even more monotonous than usual. Nothing happens around here any more. Ever since the entertaining characters got laid off, well I have had nothing to laugh at…I mean with, no one to laugh with…nothing to delight my amusement while I drink my morning coffee.

I guess, in a way, you could say … I miss them. Did I just say that? Yeah, that’s how it happens – you think it’s a slow process - One minute you miss the jovial antics of the classic hillbilly, and before you know it – BAM - you’re wearing overalls, eating KFC for breakfast, and tuning in to Springer on your breaks.

Maybe “miss” is too strong of a word here, but I do wish I could hear the jolly sound of Wilson Phillips being blasted on personal headphones. Yes, I actually miss Bulimic Bobby’s personal daily battle with homosexuality and all that entails. And who could forget no-brain Nona? Last I heard she was working at the dollar general, walfart, and payless. All three jobs have the same purpose – what’s left after child support is fuel to feed her many afflicted addictions – food, gambling, and meth.

Without these individuals around, I have found myself irrevocably uninterested and jaded. I have been up pretty late most nights either studying Spanish or reading for school. So, right now, I am getting about 2 hours of sleep less than I usually do, and because of that, my body must feel the need to make up the two hours thru other means. This is my conclusion anyway, as to why I am constantly finding my eyes so heavy at work.

Every once in a while I feel myself drifting in an out of a dream-like state. My Spanish tapes are blaring in my ear and I am attempting to “escuchan y repetan.” But the Spanish language is like a lullaby to me sometimes, soothingly calm and sleep inducing. It starts with an innocent sense of extreme tedium. The tedium soon turns to lethargy and soon enough -> I am day dreaming. Thinking of all the wonderful things in my life, my boyfriend, my puppies, my social learning, my friends, family…it goes on and on.

Once I am fully inattentive, my eyelids start to get heavier and heavier until, before I know it…I am asleep. My head hangs as if I am…well…asleep I guess, and I can feel my dome nodding with heavy consistency. It seems to happen so fast. It’s like I blink and my eyes get stuck together and I am in my own fantasy world. It only takes a few seconds for me to realize I am out before I pop my head up and open my eyes.

As soon as I am alert, my eyes immediately dart around the room to see if anyone noticed my languorous state. My eyes go back and forth examining every face for any sign of annoyance with me. Okay good, no one noticed this time.

Sometimes I try the whole “sleeping with your eyes open” thing, but I think I have lost my talent in that area. I remember being good at it in high school, but usually in time; I am back where I started. I am giving a strong effort to stay alert and wide awake this time. I chug some coffee, eat some food, and do whatever I can to attain concentration.

I always have my data in hand to simulate a hard working status. My eyes get heavy…I shake it off. I take a long blink…I shake it off. I will not drift off, not again, I mustn’t. I am looking at the data, then I’m looking at the computer screen, then the data, the screen, I am repeating “adonde vas?” I take a long blink, my eyes go crossed, I loose my place, shake it off and repeat the process. The data, the screen, “siga durecho,” my eyes are slowly getting tighter and crossing, I loose my place, I shake it off. The data…the screen…“compro cena…” cross-eyed. The data, the screen, “una quadra,” the daaattttaaaa … theee scree-...zzz...zzz...zzz…. Sleeping mannerisms kick in - mouth gapping wide open, drool beginning to form a stringy river from my mouth to the desk, a slight snore echoes in my head, and my body starts to slowly droop and move close to my desk, when…

Hey, huh, what – I’m up, I’m here, what! “vive en el centro?” did you say something to me? Again, my eyes dart around the office investigating any notification of my somnolent episode…good, no one noticed this time. At least, I don’t think anyone did. This whole process repeats itself several times over during the day, until finally I go home and miraculously I am not tired at all. I am just so damn bored here.

In an attempt to stay attentive and awake, I occasionally go to the bathroom to liven up. I splash my face with water, give myself a few sharp slaps to the cheek, shake my head, and attempt to spark an aware and focused condition. Then I give up and go to the break room couch to lie down like a proper freeloader does. Shit, if I am going to sleep, I might as well be comfortable. After a 15 minute nap I am usually refreshed and good for another hour or so before I have to repeat the entire episode.

With love,
Sleepy in a Shit-hole

Workplace Diversity Testing Negated by Jugs

2007-09-24T08:29:00.000-05:00

We took a company mandated discrimination test last week. Of course, being a student of social change, I was eager to see this happen. However redundant and commonsensical this may sound, my professors have actually told us that in less progressive states such as this one; studies show that people actually learn from these discrimination tests and end up correcting their own naive bigotries. One of my professor said that most people fail on their first try only to try again, pass, and get that coveted workplace diversity certificate stating that they are now free from discrimination and can continue in the workplace spreading freedom and liberty.

Everyone was rolling their eyes and considering this to be an unwarranted exorcise in wasting time voluntarily sponsored by corporate. My manager even said to me,
“Hey, I know this is silly, but we all have to take this test. Corporate is making us do it, so just take a few minutes to do this and we won’t have to do it again for another year,”
Yeah, that is the sensible approach to take when trying to motivate people to change naive habits ingrained in their every action … act as if it is a chore. It is just so stupid to waste time trying to change bigotry, isn’t it?

The questions on the test seemed to be common knowledge. There were a few anecdotes to read about two people in inequitable circumstances on the job. Then a couple questions were asked to determine if the aggressor had crossed the line leaving the other person feeling uncomfortable and victimized. Most of the stories were about sexual harassment, and disciminating against sexual orientation, race, religion, or gender. It seems simple enough.

I heard a few of my coworkers later discussing one story in particular involving an offensive joke. They thought the antagonist had not gone too far and there was nothing wrong with what she had done. So, rather than learning from it and confronting their own misunderstood prejudices, they were convinced the test had gotten it wrong and that,
“If people were that sensitive here we would have a lot of problems.”
- So much for the effort of combating unequal biases.

Later that day I got my regular bombardment of coworker email. I opened up Carmen’s email labeled News from Harley Davidson. I usually don’t open her emails anymore, so I don’t really know why I had decided to expose this one. I guess I wanted to see if the workplace diversity test had changed anyone’s mind. My hopeful expectations generally let me down and this time it was no different.

The email was a notice to all Harley lovers. They were now offering airbags for their motorcycles. Just as my manager was strolling my way, I scrolled down and immediately closed this email. I don’t think my manager saw the humongous bare breasts that were the punch line of the joke, but I can’t be too sure.

Yep, I was starring at blatant pornography in my office, at my desk, sent to me by a company email address. The three women in the joke had breasts that were about the size of watermelons. It was disgusting! Call me a prude or tell me I don’t have a sense of humor (which, by the way, is what the test said protesters of discrimination in the workplace are most commonly accused of) but I would rather be and prude than to be so ignorant to think that was amusing.

I guess because it was a woman sending it to a woman, there was no need to classify it inappropriate. But making something okay for one sex but not for the other is in fact the meaning of discriminatory practices. All it takes is for them to say “is this offensive, or would it be perceived by another person as offensive?” Think people! Just think before you speak or act! Sometimes I feel the need to protect the outside world from the individuals in my office, but then I remember the outside is just a macrocosm of the inside! I have got to get out of here!

- Oh, and yes, I know some may say, “well, your blog is offensive, why don’t you stop and think before you write” And yes, you are absolutely right and I will not seek to justify my actions. I am a hypocrite and I couldn’t care less. I need to vent. I only hope that I am not perceived as discriminating against a certain type of person, rather despising every person equally.

It Was Only a Dream ?!?

2007-09-19T09:25:00.000-05:00

I had a dream last night. After years of agony and months of anticipation, I had finally gotten laid off. I got the boot … for good! None of that write-up, warning, three strikes shit, I was out of here - never to return! In this dream, it happened like it always happens up here when there are multiple lay-offs. A few people had gone before me, so we all knew what was going on. As soon as they called me into the office I knew I had brought to fruition my year long dream of unemployment.

Pepper-tooth called my name to go to her office and there I sat, facing the two people that have stood in my way of unemployment checks for too long. But now … now the ball was in my court. I was getting what I wanted, and although they had not said it yet, I knew it was coming. I could not have been more ecstatic. To be honest, it was similar to a wet dream, with all it’s glory and messy excitement!

Dull and Pepper-Tooth began like I expected, with soft compliments and explaining the logistics of the business. Then the most glorious words in the English language graced their lips. It felt like it was in slow motions:
“W e - - h a v e - - t o - - l e t - - y o u - - g o.”
My mind instantly rang with church bells and holy hymns … alleluia!

As soon as they handed me the necessary papers, and instructed me on the technicalities, I was released and flew out the door of Pepper-tooth’s office. I felt like I was light as a bird and floating on magnificently sweet air. It was not just any routine air I was breathing today, no this was now the air of freedom!

I called my boyfriend to let him know I would soon be enjoying the fruits of unemployment and the grandeur that independence entails. He was ecstatic and I was ready for him to pick me up and get to the bars!
“Get your drinking hat on, we're celebrating!” I told him, “Take you tums now, because it is going to be a long night.”
“Its 10:00 in the morning.” He reminded me. I thought for a second and considered possibly still going out at 10 in the morning, but I decided against it.
“Oh, yeah … well, get ready … in 12 hours, we will be running amok!”

I had been untied and released to collect my things. I am free and destined to spread the terror and fright that I have bottled throughout the years. Chauncy Pepper-tooth discharged me and now the countless horror stories of hillbilly sex will never be heard by my ears again. I can not erase the horrid evil I have witnessed but at least it will cease to be heard! I have been let go and will soon be on a roguish rampage. Yes, watch out credulous citizens of this great bible state, a lion has been freed from captivity and she is ready to let the city know: "Free at last, free at last!"

I am now free to be a true anti-employee. I encourage all of you to reject your cubical oppressors, and revolt for the sake of freedom! Do it now while there is still time!

I am thinking of all the time I will inevitably have to create countless works of art, read, sew, and do whatever I want to enhance my life. Just as my mind begins to wander and imagine the possibilities my release facilitates, I wake up. I woke up with the excited feeling of liberated ecstasy I had in my dream. I opened my eyes and thought for a second it was just the next morning. As I was about to sleep in for the first time in a while, James said,
“Don’t you have to get up for work honey?”
“NOOOOOOOO!” … I realized it was all a dream. I wanted to cry a little bit but I couldn't, I was dead inside. I was so close, yet not close at all! It was just a dream? Just a dream!?! I feel betrayed by my own dream.

I wanted to believe it was real, I have never wanted something so much. The taste of that sovereignty and then having it ripped from my clenched fists was almost too much to handle. I’ll be honest here, I almost called in sick because of this dream and I really wanted to, it was just so real.

Why did the universe curse me with such a dream, so enlightened in experiences; only to have it be taken away? … It was only a dream, only a dream, just a dream!?!

Now I am here and I continue to count the days until my liberation!

I am Going Crazy Here!

2007-09-14T09:23:00.000-05:00

I am getting pretty restless here waiting to be laid off. Not much has been going on, just my sanity slowly diminishing. I feel like I have been dropped in the middle of a Psycho-social experiment. Someone is without a doubt studying me and how a radical mind reacts to constant inescapable conformity. I feel like everyone here needs to have a mental and emotional assessment to determine if they are even sufficiently competent to be in a social working environment. Some of the things that come out of these people’s mouths are just flat out irrational and offensive.

It is really hard to figure out how to communicate with people that have little to no social communicative skills, and on top of that they have demonstrated no ability to comprehend anything that I consider to be core to my personal beliefs. I guess to be fair, I don’t understand them, and they don’t understand me.

But what is even more distressing, is that although I know they do not associate with my character, when I am around, they sure as hell claim to identify with the same philosophies I do. Then when I am not around their true beliefs are shown.

On numerous occasions there have been countless people that have told me:
“I am a vegetarian as well, yeah I hate meat, I never eat it and I love vegetables,” then, the next day they ask,
“Hey, I's going to KFC, anybody wants anything?” It is a constant contradiction of words around here. Another one I have heard is,
“I do the skate all the time, I loves skateboarding the parks.”
Or my personal favorite, “I love doing graffities, I use the spray paint all the time. I do a lot of art with spray paints.”
I always want to respond like this, “I think we probably use spray paint in drastically different ways, you do know that huffing paint does not qualify as any form of art, don’t you!”
Why do they lie all the time?

Tanner, the guy that attempted to turn himself into my boyfriend James, well he was the worst at this. Everything James did Tanner attempted to emulate. When my boyfriend would draw at work, I would look over and Tanner would be attempting doing the exact same thing, trying to do the same drawing and everything .

The thing we got a kick out of was when my friends and I would all be talking about something, it could be anything - stupid or entertaining; one or two people would unavoidably look up the topic on the Internet to put their two cents in. Indicative of a culture that doesn't know how to think for itself. You could always tell when someone was doing this because they would read it from the web page, verbatim and claim it as their own original thought. We would be talking about music or politics or something like that and every time, it was usually Tanner or someone else, would read the info off the net like it was theirs.

Why do people feel the undeniable need to interject, when they have no knowledge of the topic at hand? I swear, my coworkers just love to hear themselves talk, they like the sound of their own voices way too much! What happened to speaking only when you have something intelligent to say?

I feel as if I am going crazy here. My biggest fear is that I will be here long enough to actually grow fond of the blissful country folk mentality and eventually go insane and turn into one of them. I dread the day I actually stop being so extremely annoyed with everyone. Unfortunately it would be slightly relieving to do so, but I vow to never become one of them … then, they have won! My annoyance with them actually fuels my own personal satisfaction with my unconventional existence.

Everyday I get closer to full blown insanity. I am beginning to think I will never get laid off! By the time my unemployment comes I will probably have been involuntarily committed, or in jail for going postal. I wonder which would be worse!?!

That No-neck Redneck Actually Shot Her Sick Puppy!!

2007-09-10T10:55:00.000-05:00

Last week I learned of an incident that happened with one of my coworkers. Carmen has been the subject of a few posts, and now she will be the topic of yet another twisted story. Carmen, being the no-neck redneck that she is, came in last week and told me a story that was so disturbing to me; I still can’t stop analyzing it.

Everyday this woman makes me more miserable and adds to my dissatisfaction and frustration with this job!

A short warning to any animal lover out there, this one may be hard to handle. Most of my posts are meant to be funny (well, I try to make them funny) but this one is just disturbing and unsettling, and is further evidence of just how screwed up my coworkers are.

Three weeks ago Carmen got a baby Chihuahua that she named Chip. At the time the puppy was only four weeks old, and was away from her mother. To be honest, I was not sure if the age of the puppy was appropriate for weaning, but I kept those feelings of conflict to myself, as I often do around here. So, she had been entertaining us with numerous cute puppy stories for the past few weeks, and telling us how much fun it was to have a puppy and an 18-month old baby playing together.

Last Thursday she came into work telling us that Chip seemed to feeling ill. She assumed he had caught something when he went to the lake over Labor Day weekend. Wednesday night when she said Chip threw up for the first time. After he got sick, he stopped playing and was very lethargic. She acted like it was nothing serious, and was not too concerned with it.

I told her with puppies that young, you don’t want to take chances and she should take him to the Vet. Chip hadn’t gotten his shots yet, so the illness could be one of many things. She did not want to take him to the Vet because it was an hour away from her house and that was too far. But work is 30 minutes from her house and there are plenty of animal hospitals around here, so I fail to see how she could assume the nearest Vet was an hour away. I personally think it was the potential cost keeping her from taking Chip to the vet.

That kind of obtuse thinking is so inconsiderate. Why get a dog if you are not prepared to take care of it when it gets sick? Animals cost money even if they never get sick, everyone knows that. Taking a living animal into your home is a choice, but once you have done that; caring for that animal is no longer a choice, it is a duty that any responsible adult acknowledges. Having a pet is a good way to teach children accountability, and she does have six young kids to raise and influence. Failing to be that example for your children only shows them how to mistreat animals and neglect your commitments.

Friday morning Carmen came in and I immediately asked her,
“How is your little puppy doing?”
She told me,
“When I got home last night, he hadn’t got no better. All he could do is lay ‘round and throwing up everything. He wudn’t drinkin’ or nuthin’.”
“So, I guess you had to take him to theVet?” I asked.
“Neah, he was having hard time breathing, and we thought he was suffering.”
“How was he doing this morning?”
“Well, he died last night.”
“Oh my gosh, he died! That is so sad, I’m so sorry! So, how did it happen? Did he just stop breathing? Was it last night or this morning? Did you not have time to take him to the Vet?”

I bombarded her with questions, of course, because I wanted to know if there was anything anyone could have done. The following part is disturbing and I never could have prepared myself for what I was about to hear.

“Well, it looked like it was unhappy and in pain – ”
I’m thinking to myself – well of course he was in pain, he needed medical attention!
“- and, so I had Eddy (her hillbilly husband) shoot it, so that it would not have to suffer.”
“You shot your puppy, Chip!?!” I said astounded.
I had no idea people did that … especially not to puppies! I thought people only did that in the past with horses and elderly dogs, not because the Vet was too far away!
“No, I didn’t shoot it, my husband did.”
“So, your puppy died from getting shot!?!”
“Yeah, we had to do it.”

She did not even seem sad, more matter of fact about it. They don't want to get another puppy, which to me, implies they did not really want one at all.

I still can’t believe they did this! I understand that I am more sensitive to animal rights than the mainstream, but I don’t think I am overreacting here. They shot a six week old Chihuahua puppy with a handgun; a defenseless sick puppy that was probably no more than three pounds!

If one feels it so necessary to put an animal out of his/her misery, well … that’s why we have Vets that can legally euthanize an animal. All she had to do is drive the “hour” (30 minutes in reality) to the Vet and tell them to put her down. If it was me, I would have a vet make an informed decision on the puppy’s health, Vets want to help. An owner with no medical background or knowledge of fatal diseases in animals is not qualified to determine whether an animal is dying or just sick.

What is most infuriating is that she easily could have given the puppy to me or anyone at this office, and we would have taken it to get the necessary medical attention it required. At that point, if need be, the vet could have put the dog down.

I did not have the heart to ask what she did with the body, or how she even did it. I kind of wanted to know the details, but I don’t think I could have handled it. I think she could tell I was bothered by her actions. It doesn’t take a lot of common sense to assume that a vegan would be troubled by a person shooting a three pound Chihuahua puppy.

I know this is commonly done in dog fighting with dogs that are no longer aggressive enough or dogs that are not sufficient fighters. But this is also done on farms with horses and other animals and, I think, it was done more in the past than now. So, what is the difference? I am inclined to be more understanding for the later state of affairs.

My modest amount of knowledge pertaining to these laws is inadequate to make an informed decision. Am I overreacting? Is my sensitivity to animal rights issues clouding my judgment of what is legal? What do you think, is it out of line for an owner to shoot a puppy to relieve its pain? What is the actual law regarding owner induced euthanasia by gunshot?

The laws are dreadfully vague. The law in most states maintains that: an owner euthanizing a sick animal by gun-shoot is allowed if the life of the sick or injured animal can not otherwise be helped or saved by any other means. In this case, the life of this animal could have been helped by a vet; therefore what Carmen did constitutes animal cruelty … should she be reported?

Once again, this is just one more example indicative of the intense hillbilly mindset that governs this workplace.

Barbeque for Everyone ...Oh, Except you Guys!

2007-09-07T10:46:00.000-05:00

Dull came in again yesterday, no luck though … I didn’t get laid off. Instead we had a little party with barbeque to celebrate some big contract the company signed. So, I ate my fruit and a pickle because they forced me to sit in the break room and mingle with the meat-eaters.

I would have much rather sat with the temps. They recently hired some temps to help get the building cleared out and ready for the move. It makes a lot of sense – lay off a bunch of people and a month and a half later hire 10 temps for work that needs to get done. The logic in this place is just so overwhelming!

So, on the temps third day, the company orders a shit load of barbeque. There is plenty enough to go around, but they tell the temps the food is not for them and to-
“just stay in the back, this stuff doesn’t really concern you guys, just keep working in the back. We’ll be in here for about an hour, so just try to avoid needing to go in the break room.”
That is so absurdly rude! Greedy self-indulgent people can’t even share a few ribs. I guess they skipped that week in kindergarten when we all learned to “be nice and share.”

Isn’t that great motivation-?-
“Hey, come do this grunt work that no one wants to do here. We’ll pay you $7.50 an hour … Oh, and if you need us we will be in the break room enjoying a scrumptious feast of barbeque and cobbler, try to stay out of our way.”
What assholes, so typical of them to do every irrational thing to lower employee moral!
So, I fixed myself a huge plate and brought it to them to share. There were ten of them, which mean I think they got one piece of meat each. Oh well, at least it was something.

Let’s examine the healthy choice of lunch the company provided: ribs, brisket, chicken, baked beans with meat chunks, coleslaw, and cobbler, oh and your choice of pop, out of the vending machine. Would it have killed them to offer a salad?

As if it’s not bad enough that I am excluded from eating a free meal; rather than relaxing in a secluded area outside with my fruit, they actually made me sit in the break room and watch all those nasty people gnaw on animal bones tearing every last muscle off the bone, then discarding the bone in a sack for Lorraine to take to her dogs. It is scary to watch these people stand in line to get their food, it’s like they haven’t eaten in days. Don’t get in their way or you will get an elbow in the eye. I guess it’s good they are not wasteful.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s not the meat that disgusts me, I see people eat meat all the time, I couldn’t care less, it's the people that make my stomach turn. These people have no decent manners that normal people use to govern their eating habits. Of course, they are all talking with their mouths wide open, full of food. I don’t need to hear about your cat and what you bought from walfart last night while you are eating!

I just love to watch half-chewed carcass in an obese open mouth get tossed between their chompers, faces covered in sauce mysteriously getting coleslaw in their ears, on their foreheads, eyebrows and even hair. Barbeque sauce in hair - it’s a delicacy in some countries. Not to mention all the other abnormalities that exist on their person that disallows me to consume and digest food properly in their presence. Just looking at one of them and eating is hard enough, now I have to dine while seeing all of them gorge on a giant glutinous feast.

After everyone is done eating, sure enough, there is plenty left of everything! Maybe they could offer some to the temps … nope! Instead they will continue to overeat and stuff themselves with the leftovers for the rest of the week, possibly into next week.

Yes, the kitchen will inevitably reek of reheated barbeque for the next few days. I anticipate being disgusted once again at the smell of barbeque at 7:00 in the morning. Yep, that’s my reality for the next few days. While it’s customary for other usual individuals to take pleasure in coffee and scones for their breakfast, I will be watching others consume copious amounts of meat like its Thanksgiving … for breakfast and lunch, and pretty much all day long!

This is all really amusing especially because, according to what some of them have told me, they are borderline vegetarians. There is a typical response most people give when they learn I am vegan, after I explain what it is, without fail, the majority of people respond this way:
“Oh, so you don’t eat meat or dairy, huh. Yeah, I don’t eat a lot of meat either, and I hate milk. I guess I don’t really eat dairy either. And ya know, I just don’t like a lot of meat. Like, I only eat, like chicken and turkey and stuff. I just don’t really like meat. I only eat meat like once a week. So, like what do you eat? A lot of salad?”

I have heard this too many times to count, and every time, I always want to say-
“Um, well, you tell me what I eat, since you supposedly avoid the same foods I do.”
I can always count on that being their typical response and then the same person turn around and stuff their face with assorted meats. I don’t know what compels most people to reply like that. It’s like they have an odd need to emulate my actions. Do people think I am offended by their meat-eating ways? Shit, I like in the bible belt, I know people eat meat all the time. I don’t give a damn what they eat or why, it’s their clogged arteries, not mine!

Meanwhile, while we are appreciating a rare opportunity to have full hour for lunch, the temps are working in the back. The new temps hopefully present a fresh possibility for creative material to put on my blog. We don’t have many instances to socialize and communicate with them, but I am going to attempt to find another ally in this war against futility and ignorance. But, given that this is the bible belt, I will most likely just find more of the same … there is always more of the same!

"You Got Robbed, and it's All Your Fault!" - Chauncy Pepper-tooth Strikes Again!

2007-09-05T11:48:00.000-05:00

Boredom … it’s a concept familiar to many nine to fivers and anyone with a motivation for eclectic awareness stuck in a crap-hole of a job. Wednesdays truly are the worst simply because Tuesdays are the best! I don’t have to work because I go to class on Tuesdays in Nompton, and the 2 hours in between class I spend with my closest friend, Tracy.

Tracy is the epitome of remarkable class, fascinating enlightenment, and is genuinely self-actualized, in my opinion. Without a doubt, she is one of the people I admire most in my life. And because of the insightful exchanges we enjoy, this makes it all the more difficult to return to the unintelligent dim-witted void that is my job! It’s like being in two different worlds in one week!

Tuesday is what gets me thru the week and gives me something to look forward to. For the most part, it has been exhaustively repetitive around here. My little pranks I pull thru-out the day are barely enough to keep me awake.

Last week I actually resorted to switching a few lunches. I put the contents of the pink pale in the brown sack, the brown sack food in the plastic sack, and the plastic sack lunch in the pink pale. I guess it was amusing, but not very imaginative. To be honest, I was a little disappointed with myself because of the deficiency in originality for that stunt. I should be punished for lack of creativity. I was just so bored!

Sure enough though, if one waits long enough around here, something will happen … and indeed it did, not anything good though. On Friday, after we got our paychecks, one of my friends up here was robbed at gunpoint right next door! Adam is one of the few friends that is still here. My boyfriend and I got him the job, and he is one of my few allies here.

He had just received his paycheck and, like he naturally does every week, he walked to the corner store on his break to cash his check. My boyfriend and I went to the same place to cash our checks, until this happened. He cashed his check like normal and proceeded to walk back to work. Well, this guy caught him in the parking lot. He made him get down on the concrete, face down, and demanded his money.

This was in broad day light 2:00 PM, in a highly visible area! Adam attempted to conceal the hundreds and tried to give him the few dollars out of the other compartment, but of course the robber had seen him cash his check inside, so he said,
“Ge’me ‘yo f*n cashed check bitch, ‘yu want a bullet’n y’head?”
Adam reluctantly gave him all of his money, his entire check, about $600. When the guy grabbed the money, Adam started yelling,
“Help! He’s robbing me! I’m getting robbed! Help! Call the police, he’s robbing me!”

This apparently did nothing because the guy was still pointing his gun and directing Adam,
“Stay down! Shut the f* up bitch!”
Adam did not know what to do, what the guy was going to do, or why he was still pointing the gun at him after he had the money. Adam immediately began to think of ways to get the guy away, so he began to yell out the guy’s license plate number on the car he was driving. That did the trick. The robber immediately ran back to his car and drove off.

When the robber drove away, Adam studied the car. Noting the color, make, model, and possible year, anything he could use to describe the car to the fuzz. That’s when he noticed there was a woman in the front seat, along with a very young girl in the back, that Adam said looked no older than 13! Maybe it was ‘take you daughter to work day’ and he was just showing her the ropes. I mean, who is Adam to get in the way of father-daughter bonding? Hey … it’s a close family, they do everything together.
“Honey, can you say ‘g-l-o-c-k’? Daddy loves you.”

Soon enough, the boys in blue came and Adam learned that they had the guy and girl on the surveillance camera inside the store. The girl actually cashed a check inside the store before the guy robbed him. IDIOTS! So, now they have her name.

The doe-doe-nutter said that with all the descriptive information he has, and especially because of Adam’s recollection of the license plate number, they would most likely catch them. Of course, to me, here’s what that really means:
They should be able to catch them, no problem. But, most likely they will screw something up and not track the guy down, or find the wrong guy … cause ‘ya know – to bulls, they all look alike. Or, if they do inexplicably find the right guy; he will get off on a technicality due to incompetent police behavior.

I am very sorry that this happened to Adam. I’m sure it was horribly daunting and overwhelming. The worst part about it was that our boss, Chauncy Pepper Tooth, made Adam feel as though it was his fault! Because he went on his break, he called to let her know what had happened, and that he would have to wait for the little piggies to arrive before returning. She was upset that he left the building, while on the clock … even though there is no and never has been any rule expressed prohibiting employees to leave the building on their breaks.

He didn’t return that day, but when he came in the next day, he was greeted with almost all of us conveying concern, making sure he was okay, and a few even lent him money, but Loranne, well she had to make her displeasure clear.
.
After stating her annoyance with his leaving, she then continued to articulate her disapproval of the store he decided to go to in the first place. She said,
“Why would you choose to go to that store Adam? Don’t you have a bank?”
“No, I don’t use banks.” He said.
“Why not? So, you just carry all that money on you all the time! That is so dangerous, you should never have that much money on you! If I didn’t have a bank, I would go to a grocery store or something, homeland cashes checks.”
“Well, everyone here goes to that store all the time for food and stuff, and it’s next door – that’s why I chose to go there … convenience.” Adam said biting his tongue.
I could tell he wanted to go off on her, but she has the power – Chauncy Pepper Tooth is the boss, and she deserves respect!
“Well, I guess that bit you in the ass, huh?” Loranne responded in her know-it-all, whiny-ass voice.
“Yeah.” At this point Adam was ready to strangle her, but to my surprise, he kept his composure!
“Huh, yeah, I bet your going to get a bank account now, huh?” Pepper-Tooth smugly said.
“Um, no … having a bank account has nothing to do with me getting robbed.”
“Well, mmm-hhmmm, you’ll change your mind once it happens a few more times.”

She actually said that to someone who was just held up at gunpoint. As if joining the masses and “being a responsible banking citizen” can make one immune to robbery!?! Infuriating!! I’m willing to bet that just as many people get robbed at gunpoint getting money out of an ATM as do people cashing a check. Do you see what I mean about the flagrant atmosphere of contagious ignorance in this office. I can’t even believe it at times!

Carmen - The No-neck Redneck with a Rotten Case of Dandruff

2007-08-29T12:58:00.000-05:00

First off, I apologize for neglecting to write anything recently, but I had to use Monday for homework, and Dull (the big boss from corporate) has been here for a few days, so it was hard for me to sneak in a few hours to write.

I always find myself getting a little excited and anxious when Dull comes to town because there is a possibility I could get laid off, but he did not come with the other mutual stooges that are required for lay-offs. When he was here, I was noticing the people in this office and their intense ability to superficially interact with Dull, as if they would get fired if they didn’t go so far up his ass they could examine his colon functions. Believe me, the lack of a fervent kiss-ass talent is nothing one can get canned for … after all, I have NEVER sucked up to Dull, and I am sadly, still here every day.

This semester of school has been in progress two weeks now, and as I become more and more immersed in being a student of social change, I am increasingly aware of my constant frustration with society. In my opinion, my work atmosphere and my coworkers are, essentially, a microcosm of society as a whole. This is an unfortunate truth that I have reluctantly come to recognize, but I refuse to accept.

My workplace, while still a microcosm of the general public, is far from anything I would regard as a collective success and is not a reflection of what I deem to be a capable and conscious community. I suppose I should consider this place to be only a microcosm of the area known as the bible belt. It’s just too depressing to think of this place as any kind of representation of any community much less that of well-adjusted cognizant communities, like Portland, san fran and other countless coastal cities!

When it comes down to it, what is so hard about making any geographical area a stable, mindful, scholarly community? Why is Portland so good at it, while here in the heart of the US, people like me struggle to find like-minded individuals? Of course, there are many reasons. But, theoretically, would it even be possible to change the identity of an entire population? As a future social worker, this would be an immense experimental challenge.

I don’t want to imply that my way is the right way or the only way to live; I would merely like to suggest a distinct alternative. I am constantly aware of the discrepancies that exist between my school atmosphere and work. When I go to school and engage in witty, intellectual, and stimulating discussions, I feel as though my extensive abilities are being fully actualized and appreciated. Then I go back to work and it is like a continuous mind-fuck! Just when I get comfortable with my academic surroundings … bam, it’s back to work for me!

I like to encourage people with uniquely diverse beliefs to interact in extensive discussions. With conflicting notions all interrelating, it is feasible for us to progress and learn from one another and further formulate our opinions into well developed and enhanced point of views. I don’t have a problem with the differences that I have with my coworkers, it is the obtuse and offensive way in which they choose to continuously present their opinions and judgments that I have a problem with.

One person, in particualar, really makes me want to walk out of this building and never come back. I now have a depressed attitude towards humanity because of her ... she gives hillbillies no hope!

Carmen is loud, annoying, slow, dense, and tremendously ignorant … big surprise, right? She is married with about six kids, one of which has been kicked out of many schools for fighting. Carmen always responds the same,
“It’s his age, he’s only 9, and boys will be boys.”

Every morning, without fail, she complains about the poor breakfast service at her local mcdonalds,

“I just not see why they can’t be taught English before they get a job! I mean, come on, you have to talk right to give me the right food! The Mexicans always get my order wrong!”
Here’s an idea – stop going to mcdonalds, and the problem will cease!

She lives out in the country and drives her obnoxiously massive truck with unnecessarily oversized tires about 40min to get here; inevitably wasting copious amounts of gas, but hey,
“Chicks that drive big trucks rock!” as Carmen would say. Never mind the environmental degradation you are causing, as long as you look good doing it. Isn’t that all that really matters in the end anyways?!? Is her husband’s penis that small that she must now compensate as well?

Carmen constantly bombards me with superfluous emails regarding her preferences in life. They all use the same tactic to get you to do whatever the email says … they all question your patriotism and commitment to this country;

“If you are a true American, send this email to everyone in your email list! We must stop the Mexicans from taking over our land!” or,

“God wants you to support our troops, and if you are not a terrorist you will send this to everyone you can. Give the president your support, write a letter to congress telling them you want to finish what we started in Iraq!” or,

“Some radical liberals want gays to be able to marry and adopt our kids. Good kids are going to go to gays instead of good Christian homes. Statistics show that gays are more likely to molest than straight people. Do you want kids to be sexually abused? Send this to everyone you know!”

I try to keep my political, religious, and any other controversial elements out of this office. Its bad enough here, I don’t need to know how they feel about politics and religon. I don’t tell them everyday that they are just a bunch of consuming ponds in a big game of corporate chess; but everyday I have to hear about how we should stop teaching Spanish in our public schools, or that prayer in our schools is a god-given right, or how affirmative action and the NAACP is wrong and should be illegal, it goes on and on! That’s right, I'm not over exaggerating … this is what these people believe! It’s not even subtle racism, it’s self-riotous and proud!

Oh, and none of this is ever said out loud, it is always in the form of an email! They just eat what they are fed, if the email is sent to them, they don’t question it, they just follow directions and drink their Kool-Aid! When I look at this place as a microcosm of society, I feel hopeless for my future profession! What bothers me the most is not their perspective; it’s that they can’t clarify it in order to back it up. Their failure to question, doubt, and analyze only leads to a failure in explaining, and in the long run understanding their own outlook! It makes me SICK!!!

Six weeks ago I created separate folders for the people in my office, so that their emails go directly in there, instead of my inbox. Carmen’s folder currently has 99 emails in it … in six weeks!!! I can’t even begin to explain how inappropriate and untrue every single one of these emails is. I have begun to simply write back,
“Our opinions are drastically different, please do not send me your religiously and or politically motivated emails, thank you.”
But do they stop? NO!

Everything about Carmen screams stereotypical redneck!! I would say her troll-like body could be one cause for her attempted counteraction with her monster truck. I think she lost her neck at the nascar event of ’87. It’s like her neck has chosen to retreat into her body at the shoulders for fear of rejection and burnt skin … I don’t know why she has no neck?. I guess you cant be a redneck if you have no neck …wait, I don’t think that’s how it works, I could be wrong though.

She has an unbearable case of dandruff that constantly accumulates on her shoulders forming a tower of white powder. I might need to advise her to be extremely careful around all the meth-heads, as they may erroneously attempt to snort her dandruff right off the shoulder, thinking she had a bit of an accident at the meth lab and is now covered in the stuff. I could just see one of them sneaking up behind her with a rolled bill in hand and deviously attempting to snort the remainder of the mistaken substance.

Carmen is another one of the people here that I absolutely can NOT eat around. I don’t consider myself to really have a weak stomach, but when it comes to loosing my appetite, well, it can happen in one second around here. I should just blindfold myself when I attempt to eat, I would probably get more down that way. I just can’t stand to look at revolting objects when I eat, and some of the most nauseating things around here … are my coworkers! Whether it’s a scab-filled crank face, greasy hair overflowing with dandruff, or old lady daisy-dukes with spider-veined legs; it all has the same effect: regurgitation, followed by loss of appetite! Just thinking about it at times is enough to have the same effect, uugghh!

She is one of the laziest people here … even worse than me! She sleeps a good 2 hours out of the day on the couch. I don’t know how she has not gotten fired yet. She is always the one that interrupts my lunch nap with the tv. Everyday at 2:00, she goes in the break room to watch Days of our Lives. She watches the entire episode during work, not at lunch; she is definitely still on the clock. I have to time my lunch around Days of our stupid lives now, so that I can get a full nap.

I know my unemployment is most likely not that far away, probably in November, but it is getting so hard to hold on. I kind of just want to quit and move to nompton, with all my enlightened friends, and be happy, poor as dirt, and content with my unique loved ones! Just a little while longer … I hope!!

SOMEONE SAVE ME! I HATE THIS PLACE!!

Meth ... The Work-approved Addiction

2007-08-24T09:52:00.000-05:00

The earlier post about Bonnie shed a little light on the extreme need for drug counseling here, but I decided to indulge in the countless addict stories we have here.

Let me begin by filling you in on how they handled certain drug abuse in the past. When my boyfriend worked here along with another one of our friends, Dirt, they were accused of smoking pot in the parking lot. Some thick headed inbred claimed she heard them talking about it. Oh my god, call the FBI, you caught the underground drug lord, wanted for selling acid filled needles to 3 month old babies and lollipops laced with PCP. Come on people, I’m sure the accuser was just delirious from an all-nighter at the casino.

So, apparently anyone can accuse anyone else of something and management will take it seriously. They were immediately drug tested. My boyfriend James deviously passed with flying colors, but Dirt failed miserably. Soon enough, he went to rehab to no avail, but was permitted to continue working here.

This was the only time they did anything about any drug use here. Which is remarkably inconsistent because, out of all of the drug history here, they chose to take action against a few potheads?

Meanwhile, the manager’s kiss-asses are snorting and smoking everything under the kitchen sink, but because their drug of choice encourages exceedingly hyper activity, occasionally resulting in superfluous overtime … well then, it’s no problem. They’ll gladly look the other way if the abuse benefits the company. Shit, they would probably hand out advantageous paraphernalia to everyone if they thought it would guarantee some overtime.

Evidently, the nature of drug’s impact dictates the response or consequence. If they are able to overlook it and pretend it is not a problem, then their choice is denial. I think it is obvious though, when several people are able to work for 15 hrs straight without interruptions. The tweakers always come in for overtime on weekends and work the entire two days with no breaks.

I think there have been more people that worked here on drugs than not. Bernadette, Bonnie, Nona, Dirt, Kate, Eliot, Turtle and Steve are only a few of the regulars that I know for certain would use at work on a routine basis. Dirt was one of our good friends, so we knew about everyone’s drug business because he had no discretion, when it came to an entertaining story; he loved to divulge everyone’s revealing business. We knew who bought what and how often. His enthusiasm to disclose informative gossip is analogous to a jail house snitch.

Dirt and Nona would go out on break and smoke speed and she would come back in obviously higher than a kite. She told Dirt that she liked to watch the smoke dance in the pipe. We would advise her to try not to kill the minute amount of brain cells she does have left. She use to look at us with a straight face and say,
“I not even knowing what you is talking about. I ain’t doin’ no drugs, I tell my kids to say ‘no’ and so do I.”
We would say, “Nona, you just smoked with Dirt.”
“No I didn’t, we were smoking cigarettes.” She would claim.
“You don’t smoke cigarettes! I just smoked speed with you outside in my car!” Dirt would tell everyone this, and Nona would continuously deny it, with a bold face she would refuse to admit she did speed. This was so funny, it happened about twice a week.

This is, of course a large problem in our state along with other mid west states. It’s like these country folk have nothing better to do than cook meth and enjoy retarding their kids even more. There have been a lot of people working here cranked up on ice throughout the years. Dirt had struggled with addiction and access around that place was like a 7-11, so it was hard for him to maintain sobriety after he got back from rehab.

He would get his shit in the morning and by the time work was over he would be out. In his heaviest usage he would do lines of crank right off his desk, in front of everyone. No joke! He would lay it out and cut it into lines and snort away! He was not ashamed of his drug use at all, he did not care who knew. And no one would tell because everyone else did the same shit, just not as blatant of usage. Or if they did not use, like my boyfriend and I, they were friends with Dirt and did not want him to loose his job.

He was a great friend at one point, but he got laid off and is apparently not doing well. It really sucks, we miss him a lot. I joke about it because it is easier to deal with it thru humor, but I wish we could help him. We have offered him everything we can … our home, money, and our friendship if he got clean, but nothing has worked so far. He has completely changed, we miss him.

Turtle was another user, but not of speed. He would use anything and everything he could to get a cheap quick high off of. He would steel the cans of air, which most people used to clean the dust out of small areas on computers, and take them home to huff. His apartment was littered with empty air cans.

A few months before he was laid off, someone walked in on his brain essentially melting. He had gone into the break room to get a little huffin in before lunch time, and he passed out sitting in a chair at a table. As soon as he passed out, he hit his head extremely hard on the table and then fell over on the floor. Another coworker, Sean, walked in and found Turtle on the floor … blue. Sean attempted to help him up and coax him back to his work space. All Sean managed to do was assist him to the couch and plop him down. Turtle was dead to the world, but able to breathe and communicate somewhat, so Sean left him there on the couch.

An hour and a half later, Turtle springs to life and has no clue what happened. He goes back to work like its nothing. He expected to get fired for this of course, but Sean never told anyone what he saw, he kept it to himself.

Turtle had a bruise on his head for a week or two, from the severe collision his head made with the table. And now, Turtle is sittin’ happy on unemployment … yeah, he really deserves it more than me!?!

So, some people prefer the uppers, while others enjoy the downers. Most of the downers are not here anymore because the lack of motivation to keep a job was too much to counteract. At one point there were at least 3 or 4 people working here that would literally nod out at their desks, and wake up with the keyboard imprinted on the cheeks. It was remarkable the way some of them could work with their eyes closed the entire time. We repeatedly made bets on how long one of them would continue working with eyes shut to the world. It was always a close tie between Dirt (he had many vices and enjoyed a melting pot of drugs and alcohol) and Eliot … oh Eliot, what a lost cause.

Eliot was just one of those people you want to slap around for an hour, take a break and then do it all again! He seemed to do everything wrong, this kid was just so dumb … in every sense of the word, just dumb! He hasn’t worked here in a year, and was only here for maybe 6 months before that.

He was one of our friends, and we got him a job here under one condition … he wouldn’t make me regret it. Needless to say, he did. But that was back when I actually tried to be a decent employee, when my morals were still intact.

Eliot was a basket case! He was constantly loosing pills here, and management would find them. He would deal from work and give people the code to get in the door. I would always have to help him out by fixing his work, and I tried to facilitate some kind of ordinary social code by which he could conduct himself and still do what he wanted, but it was no good … he was a constant wreck … everyday!!

I suppose because I have seen a few bad addicts in my life, I can spot a heavy user, but I would also assume that Eliot and his demeanor was a dead give away. Because of his actions, I don’t see how anyone could have assumed any ounce of sobriety on his part … but they did. Everyone loved Eliot. Management liked him because he was a brown-noser and understood how to talk to old ladies and knew exactly what they wanted to hear. Denial is a strong psychological coping skill that seems to be in most use when one is being disproportionately complimented by a young, yet goofy looking, young male. Manipulation appears to be an addict’s most exploited quality and number one coping skill. It was sickening, unwarranted flattering got him anything he wanted.

Until that one day, when he really blew it. Eliot and Turtle were good friends. Therefore, just by association with eachother, it’s my theory that their rigorous lack of common sense and stupidity generated an inescapable force of idiocy. Working together only advanced this unsuitable behavior of nonsense.

Eliot was not given unemployment, he was fired. He got fired for one day of work, or lack of work would be the correct term. One day, Eliot had gotten ahold of some tremendously stout anti-psychotic pills. He was a regular abuser of every painpill he could attain and would apparently mix these with whatever else he could find. He always had odd pills and no one ever knew exactly what they would do or what they were. He was an idiot, addicts really appall me sometimes.

So, he chose to combine an assortment of pills and then, after he was clearly out there … he decided to go into work. Yes, the normal thing to do at this point would have been to stay home, but addicts will be addicts, wont they! I’m not sure why this time was so different, but he was whacked out of his mind and into another world. From what I heard about the incident, it sounds like his actions were comparable to that of a mild acid trip. He was talking to himself and appeared to be conversing with invented figures.

This was during the night shift, so we were not there, but the results of the night were clear. The general quota of data entry in the shop is 100 for 8 hours. That night after 8 hours of work Eliot did 4 entries … 4! When one enters any data, they have to record the pre-approved name for it to be accepted into the system. The names are always numbers with a letter, ex: R05598. Here is what his data file looked like that night:
*)!nj``5b
)83bt#@5
! fgr_=.R
79f$#{(*]

I would love to know what his mind thought he was doing at that time, I wonder if it looked correct to him. And the minor quantity of data he did enter was not even useable. They have to scan the data into the computer and all of it was backwards, sideways, stretched, and so on. The staff still can not figure out how he even did most of the things he did that night!

It was funny, but depressing at the same time! We are no longer friends with Eliot because, as I’m sure you all know, addicted friends are more frustrating than a toddler.

I think drug use is unfortuantely a huge problem with many young vibrant socially conscious people. We all struggle in life and experiment, but I am so sick of hearing about, yet another close friend, that has been defeated in the battle. I don’t know why so many alternatively influenced youths with an unorthodox mentality succumb to unintelligent behavior. If we are going to succeed in socially progressing and altering the biased constructs of our social order, then we have to be intellectually creative and evolve rather than degenerating into foolish conduct. And no, I am not talking about pot or the occasional exploration into uncharted psychedelic territory. I am talking about the shit that changes one’s core into an ill-motivated shlub of a human that only finds stimulation in their fix, the crap that is used everyday to obtain an ounce of normalcy. I wish I knew how to help stop this poisonous cycle.

I find I am constantly disappointed with people around me for these reasons and many others. My standards and expectations are relentlessly thwarted by everyone except my closest friends, of which I can count on one hand, and my family. Because of this job, day by day I loose my optimism and faith in humanity. This job is a constant reminder of failing humanity and a deteriorating culture.

My friends have creative and intellectual minds that our society could significantly benefit from and their attempted contributions to further social change in humanity thru activism is incessantly negated by their drug use … I don’t get it!

I am constantly disappointment with people in this society!

Sorry, but I needed to get that out. I will now clumsily attempt to navigate my way off of this self inflated and disproportionately escalated soap box.

Yet Another Coworker - the Tweaker Crap Giver

2007-08-20T09:46:00.000-05:00

Another Monday, another week. I start school this week, so I anticipate it being pretty hectic the next few weeks. I may have to use some blog time for homework, but I will try to do school work in the appropriate setting ... at school.

I think today is the day to fill you in on a character previously introduced, Bonnie. For the most part, she is different from the small town mind that envelops this office, but she is still undeniably country. She is best friend with Donna and Bernadette (the female Boomhower that was laid off about a month ago).

Bonnie is definitely a trip, I’m having a hard time electing where to even start. She works in the front and the first week I was here she apparently became enamored with me. On the third day of work, we were chatting and getting to know each other and she immediately asks me if I know where to get any “ice”.
“Yeah, I think there’s an ice machine in the break ro-”
Ohhhh ... as soon as I said that I realized she meant the dirty ice … meth, crystal, crank, speed, amp, tweak, nazi dope. I told her I had no idea where that stuff would be and I wasn’t familiar with that crowd.

I’m sure she understood I didn’t think highly of that kind of drug or the users. I mean, come on, your 50 yrs old and still searching for an alternative high. It boggles my mind how she doesn’t have meth-mouth yet, but I’m sure it is soon to come.

So Bonnie is your typical tweaker. She talks a million miles a minute and is always loud and yelling. It’s like she doesn’t have internal audio to regulate her voice level. Can she not hear herself? We can always tell she’s here as soon as she walks in the door. For one you can hear her, but you can also smell her. She stinks of cigarette smoke all the time. I smoked for 7 yrs and never smelled that strong of smoke, at least I don’t think I did. It’s like she smoggs out her car with 5 cigs before she gets here.

Before Bernadette was laid off, they would go outside all the time and smoke their speed. One could always tell when they were just smoking cigs or doing that dirty dirty kitchen sink shit. It’s 100 degrees outside and you’re sitting in your car, windows up, without the car running. Not to mention inexplicably leaning down one at a time to do the deed. I'm not sure if they snort or smoke, a little bit of both I bet.

I don’t know who they thought they were fooling, but all of my friends knew exactly what they were doing. And then they would come inside wound up so high, it’s a mystery to me how no one, other than my friends, seemed to notice. I guess they just think it is her personality.

So, after I had made it clear I wasn’t into that, she started fishing for other drugs to bond with me over. I don’t know why, but it was like she had no other way of realating to someone. I suppose when one has been a strong addict for a substantial amount of time it’s the only social tool they have to connect to anyone. Sad, isn’t it? She seemed to relate to others okay, but I think because I was younger, she maybe assumed I was into experimenting … I don’t know.

Before my first week at this place was over, I knew way too much about Bonnie. She was a passionate participant in the wicca religion. Which, to be honest, is no more “cult-like” to me, than many other prevalent organized religion. It seems to be a vastly misunderstood religion. She explained it to me as a worshiping of the mother earth and an appreciation of the polarities in nature. In my opinion, such a reverence for mother earth should yield some kind of environmental conscience, but not for Bonnie.

Thru that religous conatation is how she went about inviting me to a wicca celebration, but not just any commemoration for the earth. This was a ritual that involved ingesting mushroom tea and dancing around a fire, holding hands with other wicca member females, in our birthday suits. Like I said in the other post, I turned this down. I acknowledged that it was thoughtful of her to invite me into her world, but I would respectfully decline.

Let’s examine this further and see how I saw this. A 50yr old meth addict I have known for 3 days is attempting to take me, a 21yr old (at the time) girl into the woods for a weekend. Campout in a place I don’t know, drink some halucinagenic tea, begin to experience a heavy trip. Then, we will light a fire and engage in a ritualistice dance around it… naked … with other females I don’t know, holding hands and howling at the full moon.

Oddly enough, the most unstable part about that whole thing and the part that I distrusted the most was that she is a heavy user of speed. Yeah, anything can happen on mushrooms, but in my opinion, it’s just not comparable to crank dillusions. I’m sure many would disagree, but I just really hate that drug!

No one else in the office even knows that she is a wicca participant, and she told me not to share this information. I still don’t know why she felt I was the one to confide in, but I think she feels some sort of camaraderie with me. Sometimes I feel as though these women sense that they screwed up with their kids maybe, and I am their new puppet to manipulate and raise. It’s an akward sensation.

I mean, I know all these women have wonderfully big hearts and pleasant intentions, and I can’t stress that enough, but they feel the need to help me thru life. It’s an uncomfortable notion to try to convey, but when I first starting working here all these old ladies clung to me.

Bonnie was the most prevalent though. About once a month she would show up to work with 2-3 garbage bags full of crap for me. It’s like she would tweak out and clean her house, and in that process she would fill up bags with shit she did not want. The contents of which varied greatly.

My boyfriend James and I would take the bags home and go thru them laughing the entire time. She would give us used and dirty underwear and pit-stained clothing from the 80’s and 90’s. Everything had either rips, stains, or an odd smell. Now, understand that I am NOT above hand me downs, shit I grew up on them. I shop at the thrift store all the time, but second hand stores would not even take this crap. I recognize her positive intentions, but some common sense would have done some good.

If it’s not clothing, it’s worthless, half-used junk that she does not want to keep around her house. She gives us anything from laundry detergent samples, to broken trinket boxes, to half filled shampoo bottles, to rusted and dirty utensils, to old roach spray, to damaged appliances …etc., the list goes on and on and on!

In the beginning we would go threw the junk and eventually throw everything in the dumpster. Now, when she gives me stuff, I just throw it out immediately because one time a roach crawled out of the bag. When she gives me this shit, she might as well just say,
“Hey guys, here’s some shit from my house, will you throw it away for me?”
Because that’s exactly what we do with it now.

I don’t want to hurt her feelings and tell her we don’t want it. I have told her before that we don’t need anything and we have enough stuff we don’t have room for, but she just says,
“Well, take it anyway, go thru it, and I’m sure you’ll find a lot of stuff in there you can use.”
I mean, what does one say to that?
“I don’t want your busted shit!”
Oh, how I wish I could say that!

Besides giving us crap all the time, she is constantly trying to feed us. The whole time, I am always thinking to myself – do we really look that poor? We all make the same amount of money, and I know my boyfriend is skinny, but come on! I usually don’t turn down free food, but on numerous occasions she brought us food and there was always something wrong with it.

We had been vegetarians for 5 years and now vegans for only 3 months so far. When we were vegetarians, she would bring in food and tell us it had no meat in it. I soon learned to ask questions first, like,
“So, what did you use instead of chicken stock?”
“Oh, well I used chicken stock, but it doesn’t have chicken pieces in it.”
Or it would have fish in it, or turkey, because apparently birds are not meat…?

This was not a problem with just Bonnie, it is a regular issue with everyone at the office. I don’t expect anyone to cook for me at all, but when someone gives us an extra effort, I try to be polite. Anymore, I don’t eat anything they bring in, because if they don’t understand vegetarian after I have explained numerous times, I don’t expect them to comprehend vegan.

One year ago Bonnie brought in cupcakes, no question of meat in there. I bit into it only to find it sprinkled with cat hair, and it was not just in mine, everyone had a scrumptious desert of cat hair cupcakes. I think she bathed her cat in the cupcake batter before cooking it. Thinking about that now still disgusts me.

So, that’s Bonnie, the wicca, tweaker, crap giver with a big heart. She is fun and well intentioned, she just lacks common sense. I’m sure this is due to the years of drug use. Now that I think about it, this place is probably the best anti-drug motivation I have ever encountered.

I Hate my Job, the Monotony of the Every Day ... Grape Squishin' Anyone?

2007-08-16T11:06:00.000-05:00

Another day in this hell hole. For this post, I have decided to fill you in on the every day occurrences that take place here. To me, the day to day stuff is most repetitive and tedious, but thru writing about it, maybe I will be able to let go some of my anger towards this place … I'm hoping it will be a therapeutic achievement and I will avoid being 30 and going postal.

When I get here, I am usually alone until for about 45 minutes until the other workers come in. This is the best part of my day. I get to pretend that none of these people work here. Some of the workers in the back get here early, but they don’t care what I do, and they stay back there, sometimes I forget they are even there.

I usually take this time to catch up on some sleep on the relaxing couch in the break room. I try to ignore the fact that my dirty, gas-filled, odd smelling counterparts also share this couch during the day. But usually I cant get that fact out of my head long enough to get some shut eye, so I started bringing an old blanket to lay on top of. Call me a germaphobe if you want, but if you saw these people, I have a hard time believing you wouldn’t be tempted to do the same.

After about a 30 minute catnap, I generally go around and mess with people’s shit. Yes, this is juvenile and pathetic, but it brings me crumbs of quiet giggles throughout the day. I don’t do anything mean really, more annoying. It depends on my mood what I do exactly, but I try to be creative. Okay, I guess squishing all the grapes in the fridge is not creative … that’s right – grape squishing! I'm the grape squasher! I'm not too proud to admit it. Honestly, it's a great stress reliever, grab every different bag of grapes and go to town. It’s dumb, but it’s become like an addiction, I can’t get enough of that grape squishin, it’s surprisingly and disturbingly satisfying …you should try it! I know it’s demented, but hey, I’m trying to be candid here. Old ladies getting bummed about squashed fruit ... no healthy oldies on my watch.

So, after some good ol' fashion grape pounding, I eat some breakfast and have my jug of coffee. Then I go to the radios in the office that fill the air with grotesque country radio daily and I turn them up loud and proud to NPR, or for the oldies I tune in to some ghetto-ass rap station. They bitch about this all the time,
“Who keeps messin’ with my radio? I bet it’s those immature workers in the back, come on, we’re all adults here!”
Yep, we’re all adults, but I am proud to embrace the kid in me every morning. Meanwhile I get a hearty laugh.

I do a few more insignificant irritating things before anyone arrives. Nothing extensive, I just mess with people’s desks. Rearrange their belongings, switch their pictures, empty their staplers, and adjust their chairs; basically, anything to give me a little chuckle during the dull hours that I am trapped here. I feel like I am 13 again and mom’s out of town, it keeps me from taking myself too seriously.

My coworkers start to arrive, and my hell begins. I am constantly reminded of our differences when I hear the unmistakable daily resonance of soda pop cans being popped opened at 7:00 in the morning. The favorite among them is mountain dew. I guess it’s a strong second to the meth they leave on hold until their lunch break. I don’t want to be hypocrite here, I have one guilty pleasure and that is a can of cola every once in a while. I hate that I like it, and I attempt to restrain myself to one a week. But, never before noon, and it always takes me a few sittings to finish just one can. These people down three before lunch, and no … that is not an exaggeration.

If I am not fully awake, I am as soon as Bonnie and Donna come in. I admit, summers are insufferably hot, but women in their 50’s should not be wearing short shorts to work. I couldn’t care less how they dress outside of work, but we have a dress code of casual office attire, it’s not that demanding. I don’t think that shorts half way up the thigh qualify as appropriate. I don’t give a shit what they wear, but when I am blinded by white old lady leg decorated with spider veins and cellulite, I must draw the line. They’re so constrictive, I sometimes worry for their circulation safety.

Once they are settled in, and adjust their radios, I get to hear the clever talent that encompasses country radio morning shows. I thank the gods that I am permitted to wear headphones, but the background buzz never fades. Every morning these stations have contests … be caller number 163 and get two tickets to (insert generic country name here) live in concert, win a free monster truck, or even score some kick-ass front row seats to the almighty WWF. So, not only do I get to hear the shows, it is always accompanied by the repetitive sound of redial - hang up - redial - hang up - redial. We only have four lines, so they spend the first hour at work tying up the phone lines until the managers arrive. And no one has ever won anything.

Jeanie and Loraine come in, and the calling stops. This is normally the only time I am ever happy to see them. Soon enough my content nature is congested again with the humdrum TV discussion. All the hens rally together to cluck about what shows they watched last night. American idol, the bachelor, dancing with the stars, and soap operas commonly dominate the conversation. I don't understand the soaps … aren’t they on while we’re at work? All the while, the volume on my radio increases, by the end of the day it’s so high, if someone tries to get my attention it has to be visually because I can’t hear a damn thing!

Occasionally, I try to escape to the bathroom, where I attempt to quietly take a nap in the stalls. I know it’s odd. Just like everything else though, this is also interrupted. One would think the privacy of a bathroom stall would yield a certain amount of solitude … nope! No, evidently the stall is a legitimate place to communicate. I have come to refer to this behavior as stall-talking. Most women know what I’m referring to, and maybe I am an abnormality. But I fail to comprehend the logic in conversing while a steady stream of urine is exiting my body, and splashing into toilet water. Nothing is that urgent that it can’t wait until I have finished pissing … NOTHING! You do not need to know how my day is going while I am in the midst of relieving my full bladder.

The stench of the office is just one more cause for concern. The distinct aroma of chef boy’r’d, expired old lady perfume, and bengay is one that is a challenge to disregard. They eat the nastiest stuff first thing in the morning, and because the break room is down the hall from the office, the odor pervades the room saturating the air with processed canned meats. I have seen one guy put cheez-whiz on ravioli; in fact he puts cheez-whiz on everything … mmmm ... cheez-whiz.

Finally, lunch comes. Once again, I try to get a little shut-eye. This is habitually interrupted by that ridiculous almighty tv. That’s right, 7 hours of the idiot box after work is not enough, they have to tune in during work because they just might miss jerry springer's final thought that day. There is no reason for a brainless tv to be at work. Someone actually spent their own money to feed thier addiction and bought a 7inch tv just for the break room. Come one people, pick up a book! I guess this is how most of them catch up on their soaps, they schedule their breaks and lunches according to the wise tv guide. I fantasize about taking a sledge hammer to that consumer inducing, life halting, addictive shit box.

After a restless lunch, the end is in sight. My day is nearing an end. But, I know it’s not the end of the day until I hear the ladies talk about where they will shop after work. They discuss which walfart has the best price on hamburger helper or that diabetes inducing “fruit” punch. What dollar store has a sale on twinkies, what coupon to use and which place has Doritos at a buy three, get one free discount.

If it’s not grocery day, the dialogue is subjugated by husband and child bashing. Now, I understand venting, but this is not just venting. They express a strong desire to leave their spouse AND kids. Not all of them do this, but the majority of the office spends at least an hour a day discussing their deadbeat husbands that don’t work and their ingrate kids that are insolent and disobedient … I wonder why? Why the hell would one stay in a relationship that they hate? I have heard Kelly say that she wishes her husband would cheat on her, just so she would have a good reason to leave him. They convey such resentment towards their family, but yet go home to them every night. I feel sorry for their dismal will, but it has taught me to never live a despondent life … it does not qualify as living.

Finally, the end is here! 4:00 has reared its ugly head and I get to go home. Home to one of the most remarkable, sensitive, and peaceful human beings I have ever met in my entire life and my two wonderfully enchanting puppies. And James respectfully listens as I vent and rehash my entire day.

So, that's my everyday at work. Can you really blame me for grape squishin'?

I'll Take the Money, You do the Work.

2007-08-13T10:22:00.000-05:00

I have been examining the psychological effects my behavior has had on the rest of the office. One would assume the influence of a lethargic apathetic employee would engage little or no relational change at all, but I have noticed certain adjustments in the interactions around here.

The almighty golden rule: “Treat others the way you want to be treated.” Obeyed and worshipped, most notably thru the Christian dogma, but observed by many. Until I worked here, for the most part, I respected this theory. I have recently come to discover that this notion is far from the truth … at least from what I have been experiencing recently.

A few months ago I was listening to NPR. They had a story on there about a waitress that had been conducting a small scale experiment at her work. The idea was to find out what kind of service influenced her tips in what manner. Like most people, one would assume that the better the service, the higher the tips. It has been a while since I heard the interview, but I will try to disclose the story as best as I can by memory.

She divided her tables in two sections. Half of the tables would get great service, with smiles, meal suggestions, refilled drinks, and anything else the patron needed she responded in a timely manner. The other half of her tables got okay service. She didn’t neglect them, but she only got them what they wanted after asking and did not respond quickly. She acted more indifferent and bored with her duties.

The waitress said that she got the idea to do this after watching her listless coworkers get 20% every night, while she was cheery and lucky to get 15%. Much to her surprise, what she feared to be true was, in fact, more accurate than she thought it would be. She totaled her tips making sure to keep them separate, and the group that got the great polite service tipped less. I can’t remember the exact difference, but I do recall it was significant. Something like 20-22% on her lazy tables, and 12-13% on her courteous tables. Now, some may attribute this to circumstance and coincidence, but she was convinced that she was getting higher tips because of the poor service.

When asked why she thought this was the case, the waitress came up with a theory that I can now relate to. She said she wasn’t sure, but she thinks it has something to do with the customer’s perception of her. She thought that when she was polite to the tables, they assumed she was well off, happy, and was not in need of so much money. But in response to the despondent tables, her opinion was that the patron assumed that she was miserable, discontent, and therefore a higher tip would possibly cheer her up. So, because she was already in high spirits, a lower tip would not disappoint. But, when she was in a sluggish languid state, the customer could help by increasing the tip to cheer her up.

The social need to help someone when they are down seems to be key in this situation. I was a waitress in Norman for two years and this is, of course counterintuitive to everything I was taught … that polite people get more rewards.

Why is this pertinent to my situation now? Well, I was reminded of this story when I noticed some people around here seemingly catering to me after impertinent actions. Because this is paradoxical to my main goal, I was perplexed with this outcome. It seems as though my attempts are constantly backfiring. The dichotomy of the workplace is deceptively different than what one would assume in conventional societal interaction.

This was most evident about a month ago when I was asked to do some extra work around here. After all, this was described to me as the reason for my raise, I would be asked to do more work.

So, I was asked to work in the back. The back area manager told me that I was going to have to work there a couple days a week. (Let me remind you that they had just laid off 4 workers back there, I’m not too sure why if the work still needed to be done? –but, such is life) So, I responded to this request for more work with hostility, being sure to clearly convey my contempt for new responsibilities. I mean shit, if they are dumb enough to give me the raise before the duty, that’s their fault!

Don’t get me wrong, I was not refusing the new task, I was merely expressing my disdain for the assignment. The work is even more monotonous than my current work, and they treat the workers back there with no respect. They even took away their internet back there, because they are apparently not trustworthy. It makes no sense, we all make the same amount of money, yet they bestow childish rules to the shop workers.

I think this is some twisted way to reverse the male/female roles in the workplace. The women work up front and the majority of the people in the back are men. All of the authority figures are women, except for the ones in NY. It’s a perverse manipulation of misandric power that these women have probably attained thru years of egotistical male domination in their lives. Shit, I’m a feminist, but not thru retaliation and irrational sexism, it's too hypocritical.

So, I am not too keen on standing all day and doing the work back there. No one around here would ever admit it, but they have to work much harder than anyone else. They actually enforce an unattainable quota back there, I guess to make them feel substandard.

After I am told I will have to work in the back every once in a while, I just sit and wait for the day they actually tell me to go do it. A week later it comes, and I am just about to get my stuff together to go back there, when, all of a sudden, the back area manager comes to my defense. Understand that I have hated this lady ever since Jamrs got laid off, and have never shown her any kind of reverence. Well, she decides that I should not have to scan because I do good work in the office … um, okay?

This is the part that I love! Vindication! Okay, so she tells another coworker, Donna, that she will have to do it. This is after everyone in the office had already known that I was about to go back there that day. I assume some ridicule will come my way, because it looks as if I refused the work and made another person do it. But to my surprise, everyone is happy to keep me in front and send Donna to the back. By happy, I mean, my coworkers trash talk Donna while she is in the back, and praise me for refusing to do remedial work. I try to explain that I didn't refuse anything, but they just continue to bad mouth Donna, saying she got what she deserved for being such a brown noser.

I ask around, and come to find out that Donna’s best friend, Bonnie was the one that volunteered Donna as a replacement for me. Bonnie is another long story, but she is a practicing Wicca member, and has offered for her and I to take a weekend and go drink some mushroom tea, get naked, and dance around a fire in celebration of the full moon goddess. As tempting as a good trip can be, I turned that offer down. She is a nice lady, but a little too into the meth, like many people up here are.

Now, I think everyone reading this knows a Donna. She is the biggest kiss ass I have ever seen. She pretends she knows what she is doing when she never does, she will never admit a mistake. Oh, and the best part, she’s one of the women that choose the treat the workers in the back like poo-poo. But, she is such a suck-up that she acts as if she is “happy to learn a new skill.”

This woman is the most annoying lady in the office! She calls everyone hun, sweetie, sugar, baby, girlfriend … etc. You know the type. She talks like a waitress at Denny’s, and I noticed this before she told us that she was, at one point, a waitress at Denny’s. We got a good laugh out of that one! She buts into every conversation within earshot of her dense mind, and she thinks she knows everything.

I thanked the back manager for her odd turn around, and she told me, “Hey, you done good work up front, and I think it ain’t fair f’ya to have to come to the back. I know you not wanted to do that work, and Donna will do anything we want, so we made her a scanner instead.”

So, basically, I figured that my raise was intended to give me incentive to be a worker in the back. Now, I have the money for a job someone else is doing. Ethically … yes, I should feel guilty, but honestly … I feel vindicated. Donna volunteers for everything, and she is constantly bringing in crappy food (only for the front office) to suck up to the bosses and managers.

Every day we had to deal with Donna, until the planets and the stars aligned just right on that heroic day. Now, remember, they told me I would be in the back a couple days a week. Well, it’s now three weeks later and she has not yet been back up front! If that was me, I would quit, claiming that they revoked my position.

Yet another backward life lesson I have realized thru working here … don’t volunteer your help for anything. And, if you want something from someone, treat them with utter contempt. Okay, I am not that much of a pessimistic cynic, but if I were, that would be the significance of this situation.

Why is it that unwanted behavior can occasionally yield wanted results?

The Heart of the Extremo Emo is in the Hair

2007-08-08T10:36:00.000-05:00

It's getting pretty boring around here trying to get laid off. I'm frustrated because, after that write up, nothing has happened. I guess it's just going to take time. I have got to at least make it to the end of August, that's when I get my bonus. And my raise is just now kicking in. I think they are going to make more lay offs in October or November. That seems so far away to me right now, but when it does happen I am going to try to take another trip out to Portland.

There are many unique characters that have worked here thruout the years. Because of the mass lay offs, a lot of the distinctive personalities no longer work here. But I have decided to document them anyways. Because there is not much progress to report about my situation, I will delight you with my fancy coworkers. The guy I chose to tell you about today actually still works here.

He is the son of one of the ladies that works up in the front with me. Kelly’s son Seth is 15 years old. Seth is actually one of the few people I can stand here. She is country, but not ignorant at all. She had Seth at 16, so she is now 31. She also has an 11 yr old daughter. Her husband, which is the kid’s stepdad, is a dim-witted mooch that works here in the back. We like to think of this place as a family friendly trap for your life!

Now, I am the first to admit that my teenage years are far from where I am today. We all go threw that awkward stage, but eventually most of us grow up and get over it. I am tentative to mock this poor little guy, but Seth is just one of those teenagers that you have to feel a little sorry for. I will apologize ahead of time for anyone who takes offense to me using a teen for blogging entertainment, but this story just has to be told.

Up until about two years ago Seth was a typical skater teen. He loved to skate, he had long hair, and he was average and normal in every way. He goes to school in a subarb of our city. It’s considered the stuck up part of the state, typical snobby suburban town. The traffic is horrible, and the schools are probably more sought after by parents because they are not as ghetto as the other public schools. In the past few years, it seems as though this subarb has turned into a manifestation of MTV. Every kid there has adopted the emo craze.

This skater kid must have felt as though he did not fit in because within a few weeks he was full emo. We would see Seth every once in a while during the school year and every time we saw him he had changed his appearance in some way to fully adhere to the emo uniform. You know the look by now … hair in the face cut like a girl, occasional make up for the guys, tight everything – constricted pants, body-hugging shirts, and the most important part … you must never smile, never!

It seems like some industry stooge came up with the present emo design. It’s like these kids think they are punk rock, it’s more like goth punk on PCP. It’s manufactured style. And the music … oh god, don’t even get me started on that crap.

Most of these emo kids don't know the history of their precious phase. Many of the current bands are nothing like the early 80's and 90's wave of emo. If the present day bands sounded anything like the early classifications of emo, such as Sunny Day Real Estate or Fugazi, I would be eager to be involved. But it's not, once again the corporate mainstream has involved themselves and exploited the sound resulting in the emo of today.

I must say, I do not understand this fad! Don’t get me wrong, I have adorned some absurd clothing in my day, and to each his own, but I just can’t even begin to relate to this fashion craze. Maybe I am being a hypocrite for judging somebody else’s look. I’m not sure how this opinion reflects on me, but the obsession for an emo image just seems fake. I don’t know. I would like some feedback about the emo craze and how everyone feels about this trend.

So, Seth is fully infatuated with emo life. He’s moody, his hair is gelled to look oily, parted on the side of his head just above the ear, and it’s always in his face. He wears three belts at a time, none of which are hooked on his pants in order to serve the function of a belt. Probably because snug girl pants usually don’t have belt buckles. He dyed his hair black. And all of this is driving his mother insane. He considers pants that are baggy to be parachute pants. Now, this boy is skinny, stick thin, but tall. So, I don’t think he realizes this, but it ends up making him look like a drag queen on her day off, you know, just in her/his grocery store clothes or something.

When he came to work at the beginning of this summer everything was about the same as it had been, until one day. He came into work emo like usual, but we noticed he had a lot of visible bald patches on his head. I’m not talking about a little spot here; there were about 4 large areas about an inch and a half wide. They were circular pieces that had no hair. His hair was about 5 inches long, so you could tell he tried to comb his hair over the patches, but there were just too many. He would comb one way only to notice he was abandoning another hole.

I searched my mind for a reason as to why or how this could have happened. It wasn't like he was balding early , it was too sudden and way too patchy. You could see this from at least 30 feet away. I've never seen anything like it. After trying to investigate a little without his knowledge, I noticed it was not growing back … at all!

After about a month it still had not grown out, nothing was budding not even little hairs. Then Seth started wearing baseball hats to work. In a way this made it worse because you could still see the bald patch in the back and on the side. It made it obvious that he was trying to cover something up.

I felt so sorry for him. Here he was, 15 years old with extreme bald patches on his head. I can only imagine how mortified he must be. I mean, everyone knows that the heart of the emo is in the hair. His emo career wasn't looking too good.

Once I explored the possibilities long and hard I considered a new theory. I came to the conclusion that he had fell victim to some typical high school behavior. I figured he had gotten drunk and passed out. Now, we all know that this has either happened to you or you have done it to someone else. He had passed out and one of his friends or maybe a jacked up senior shaved a few parts of his head. This is exactly what it looked like had transpired.

What I couldn't figure out though, is why it wasn't growing back? Finally, one day at work we asked his mom what had happened? I figured if my hypothesis was true, she wouldn't know what happened. At this point the whole office had gotten curious about this.

So, she told us. Being the hard core emo representative that he was, he had become accustom to straightening his hair. Apparently, wavy hair is an emo no no. But no one had ever showed him how to use a straightener. I know what you’re thinking, and no, it’s not rocket science. Evidently, it was confusing enough because this obviously went horribly wrong.

He was routinely using this straightener every morning before school and work. He would spray his hair with copious amounts of hair spray, then leave the straightener over the spray soaked hair. Once he had it on there he held it, in place dangerously close to his head, for way too long. Baking his hair in the process. He had been doing this for an extended amount of time, every morning.

This gradually took his hair out. But, being the dedicated promoter of emo persona that he was, he did not stop. After his hair had completely left his head, for good, he continued to work with what he still had. That is loyalty! It took his mother a while to notice, but once she did, Kelly had to forbid him from using the straightener. But, come on, nothing can stop a devoted emo advocate. So, he continued to use it!

Kelly realized she had to take drastic measures. She soon took the straightener away and hid it from Seth. She said it had his hair stuck and burnt to it, permanently. She tried to peel the crispy hair off, to no avail.

Once they comprehended the gravity of the situation, Kelly took him to a specialist to determine if the hair would ever grow back. The hair had slowly started coming back in peach fuzz fashion, bleached white. Therefore the consultant said it would eventually, with time, gradually start to develop back into some resemblance of hair.

There was still a big problem, summer is almost over now. His hair is still not back at all, and his public school definitely do not allow hats in the buildings. What is an emo to do? His mom made him shave his head, I guess in hopes that it would grow back even. That’s right; the heart of the emo is gone! They even took the razor to it, I mean; this boy is silky smooth skin head bald. We'll see if it grows back.

Let this be a lesson to all the impressionable emo kids out there. Try too hard and your hair will be gone! Just be yourself, I know that's cliche but it's good advice.

I think we were all, at one point in our lives, guilty of committing senseless acts all in the name of vanity. Luckily, my acts of vanity were in my teen years as well. Soon enough I was able to honor humility and modesty over ego.

Bulimic Bobby ... the Closet Gay and Gambling Addict

2007-08-07T09:37:00.001-05:00

Since I have caught up to present day, I decided I will take a break from documenting the every day occurrences. After all how many ways can one describe lazy behavior. I am still actively trying to get laid off, but I thought I would indulge in describing my delightful coworkers. This will further explain my desperate need to get the hell out of here!

My boyfriend, James came home from the unemployment office the other day, and he had run into one of the people that got fired when he got laid off. After hearing about Bobby, I realized that I have neglected to describe many of the crazy characters that have worked here throughout the years, some of which are still here. Every person that has ever been here has, in their own little way, contributed to why I need to get out of here so bad.

Bobby is one of a kind, in every way. Usually people use that phrase to denote a pleasing disposition. While Bobby is unforgettable, that may not be a good thing. He is the kind of person that is extraordinarily memorable, but one that you would definitely want to forget, but you can’t … believe me, I’ve tried!

I wish I had a picture of Bobby; his picture would speak for itself. But, since I am hesitant to post photographs, I will do my best to describe his appearance. He is approximately 28 yrs old, short and chubby. I think he is mixed, what this mix is … well, that’s yet to be determined. I am pretty sure he is half black, but that is about as much as I can pinpoint for certain.

He has that curly gelled hair that was so popular in the late 90’s and dyes parts of his head blonde, like highlights. Slightly reminiscent of typical boy band hair. Just picture Justin Timberfake at 14 and you’ve got Bobby’s hair. He is somewhat overweight, just a bit pudgy. He has a large gap between his front teeth. Every day he drank one of those gallon jugs of Hawaiian Punch. I wouldn’t even give that shit to a bum, it’s so unnatural and nasty, but Bobby loved it. The red pigment in the juice would stain his teeth resulting in a repulsive image of dyed plaque and red tinted chompers. I couldn’t even eat around him because he disgusted me so much!

He wore colored contacts, but not just any tinted contacts, only the best for Bobby. He had an assortment of decorated contacts: blue, green, purple, white, yellow, and my favorite…snake eyes. The snake eyes were by far the best! He wore those more than any others. It made his eyes yellow except for the oval slit in the middle that was black.

Personally, I thought it was the most attractive accessory I had seen on a man since the mullet. If he had a mullet and a six pack … well, let’s just say that James would have to find a new woman. There are just some things that throw your desire into a passionate haze and you cant resist the charm. Just imagining those snake eyes gazing into mine, running my fingers threw the party while admiring the business from the front, it makes me melt just thinking about it! It takes quite a bold man to wear those snake eyes, all the while knowing society thinks your crazy … what a rebel! You know what I’m talking about ladies!

Sorry, I got a little caught up in the fantasy. Bobby dressed like he just stepped out of the Habana Inn. For all the non-okies out there, the Habana Inn is one of our finest homosexual establishment. It’s in the heart of homo-row, surrounded by gay clubs and hotspots. Bobby had every color of the rainbow in his closet, he was flamboyant, very brightly dressed, and always shiny … everything was a shiny metallic lycra blend.

He was a bulimic gambling addict. He went to the casino religiously, and played Bingo on the weekends with another coworker, Nona. If you don't remember her from one of the other stories, she is the girl that had sex on the Pizza Hut prep table with her sister's husband.

Bobby and Nona go gambling all the time, and Nona is always in hot pursiut to make passionate love to Bobby. They would get thier paychecks, and because Nona would barely have anything left after her child support payments, she would split Bobby's money. One time she won a large amount with his money, but wouln't split her winnings with Bobby. We had to hear that same fight over and over for two weeks.

Bobby had so many problems it was always something new with him. One morning, my boyfriend and I went in on the weekend to do some overtime. Bobby was at his computer eating. Keep in mind this was about 8:00AM and he was binging on fried chicken, mashed potatoes with gravy, and a few biscuits. He sat there and ate it all at his desk. His greasy fingers dripping with oil and gravy remnants as he manipulated his mouse and used the keyboard. James and I would never use his computer. You could see the grease stained keys and the glossy slippery mouse ... I have to stop, I'm getting nauseous.

After about a half an hour James walked into the bathroom and noticed a rechid smell unlike a normal bathroom stench. He ignored it and began to do his business in the urinal next to the stall. He had obviously made his presence known and was slightly curious as to why Bobby’s feet were facing toward the toilet, but he assumed Bobby was shy about his little willy, no problem. All of the sudden, he heard that unmistakable hurling noise of vomiting. James was stunned! Bobby upchucked without hesitation. Meanwhile he is trying to hurry up and get out, when he heard it again.
“Blaaahaahhh … Oh shit!” He said with his lisp.

If anyone runs into James, you really have to make him tell you this story in person. He tells it better than I ever could! My boyfriend says that the “Oh, shit” was the closest thing he had ever heard to a real life Mr. Garrison from South Park.

When we would ask Bobby about his bulimia he would say,
“I can’t help it, just look at me, I’m so fat.”
Bobby always spoke with a lisp. If you asked about his sexuality, he would always answer in his Garrison-esk voice with the same response,
“I’m not gay, I just like to dress fly.”
Fly?!? He adorned himself in typical raver gear, in what culture is that fly? And, what strait guy says “fly” anyways? Oh, and I haven’t even mentioned his music preferences. He was partial to Madonna, Britney Spears, Beonce, Pussycat Dolls, Wilson Phillips, and any female R&B singer. He had horribly queer taste in music. And he never understood why we assumed he was a homosexual. Not that it mattered to us, we just couldn't understand the blatant denial.

Bobby was a social anomaly; he should be studied. He ended up getting fired because he had too many sick days, and would call in around lunch time; after he was suppose to have already been there for five hours. When he was fired he was not suppose to get unemployment, but somehow he did.

James saw him at the unemployment office and Bobby told him how he did it. He had cancer! Apparently, when Bobby was fired he went to the Dr. and he was diagnosed with stomach cancer. Now, I’m not qualified to make any kind of hypothesis as to how stomach cancer evolves, but I would be willing to go out on a limb and suggest that KFC and his bulimia may have had a hand in that. He told my boyfriend it was why he had so many sick days, and that how he was able to get unemployment.

A few days ago we ran into him again at the Homeland by Habana Inn. I was telling him how sorry I was to hear he had cancer and he said to us,
“Sorry? Why? I’m not. I have finally been able to lose weight. I’ve already lost 20 pounds, and my Dr. says to expect more.”
I know this is unbelievable! I couldn't accept what he said! He was happy to have cancer?!? I feel uncomfortable even saying that aloud, much less writing it down. I was disgusted!

So, that's Bulimic Bobby, the gambling cancer victim. I worry about him every once in a while. He was bizarre, but a nice guy and vastly entertaining. It’s peculiar but even with all his eccentricities; I would rather share his company any day than interact with the supercilious ignorant rednecks that still work here. At least he was different … definitely different.

At Long Last, Some Progress and Recognition!

2007-08-03T07:44:00.000-05:00

After that absurd raise ordeal I, of course, do the logical thing and come in late about three times a week. This is excessive to say the least, but it needed to be done in order to have my motives understood!

After three weeks of doing this, my tardy count is up there. Yesturday my boss called me into her office, along with the office manager, Jeanie. After we sit down, Loraine begins,
"We have been noticing a pattern."
I am thinking to myself what this could be about. There are just so many things that I do wrong here, I wonder which one they have picked.

She had a few pieces of paper printed off in front of her. Is this about my blog? Oh my god ... did she find out about my blog somehow? I'm doomed if she did, no unemployment, no free ride, no fun! I would just get flat out fired! I could hear her already ... well, be careful what you wish for because you might just get it, you're fired. If that is what those pieces of paper are, I kind of hope she reads them out loud ... I mean, if I am going to get fired, well, I have absolutely nothing to lose! I might as well lay it all out there and let her read them while I laugh my ass off!

As I am trying to figure this out, I notice a substantial piece of, what I can only assume is part of a pepper corn, on Loraine's front tooth. UUGH! It takes all of my energy to concentrate on not laughing, which of course makes me want to laugh even harder. But, I manage to keep my cool! I am so distracted by that pepper, it becomes hypnotizing ... I am staring at it so hard, I think she notices. She runs her nasty old lady tongue over her teeth, and I guess she felt it was gone because she continues with no hesitation. I cant stop looking at it, it's like a car wreck. I am so captivated by this morsel of repugnant black pepper, I have blocked out everything she is saying. I am oddly fixated on this entity in her mouth. I have to redirect my focus ... what is going on here?

I'm thinking...ok...if it is not the blog, then she has noticed that I am doing virtually no work. Or maybe she has detected my outright hostility towards the staff. There are so many reasons I should get fired that I can't, for the life of me, narrow it down and pinpoint the motivation for this monotonous exchange.

She continues,
"In the two years you have worked here, you have been a quality employee."
I am thinking to myself, yeah, that's my problem...I have done well until now and I can not change corporate's mind about me. You do two years of good work, and now they ignore any inconsistencies with that behavior. There has to be a way to reverse that opinion.

Maybe I am getting laid off right now. Usually Dull comes in to do the lay-offs, but maybe they don't want to wait for him, they just want out now, don't worry...the feeling is mutual. Meanwhile that damn tooth is driving me insane...cant she feel that?

"Until a few months ago, we could count on you."
Oh, ok, awesome, pepper-tooth has noticed my lethargic attitude. I am on the right track! Finally, some recognition of my hard work.
"But, we have noticed a pattern in your behavior."
Um, duh, ya think!?!
"After your boyfriend was laid off, you were late numerous times. Before he was laid off you had 3 tardies in that 5 months, and we could always count on you to be punctual. Since he was let go, you've had 14 tardies in 3 months, 6 of which were in the past 3 weeks directly after all of the layoffs."

OOPS, I guess that was a little too obvious ... oh well! They can't prove that I am trying to get laid off.
"Now, we knew your boyfriend's lay off would affect you, but we can not tolerate this tardiness."

While i am trying to figure out if they are firing me, I think about how it would not be so bad if I did get fired and did not get unemployment. At least I would be away from this hellhole...for good! They hand me the sheet that has all of my tardies on it. Pepper tooth continues talking,
"This is very uncharacteristic of you."
Uncharacteristic...?...they don't know me. They have no clue what my character is like! Ok ok, a little bit of hostility there, but come on, I despise these hillbillies!

"Do the lay-offs have anything to do with this?" She asks me. No, its that mountain lodged in your tooth that seems to be growing, it's distracting me from my work.
"No, it has just been a bad summer."
"Well, at this point, we have to-..."
Lay me off? please! Come on just do the right thing, you know you want to...come on!! Even a firing would be tolerated!
"give you a written warning. This is considered a write up and if this behavior continues, if you are late even one more time, we will have to terminate your position. Please sign here acknowledging you received a warning"

So, I got written up...that's it? I have had a total of 17 tardies before the year is over, and all I get is a write up? And that does not even include all of my late lunches. As I was leaving her office, I wanted to say, "oh, by the way, you have an enormously distracting piece of pepper in your tooth." But I didn't, I held back. I figured it would be more comical to let her walk around all day with it in her tooth, and see how long it takes her to notice.

This is okay though, its actually right where I want to be. You see, when the time comes to make more cuts to staff, before we move, the employees with written warnings are always the first to go. That's how it has been for almost every person that has gotten laid off. The only exceptions were the pension layoffs.

As long as I am not tardy one more time, I will most likely reach my goal! I know it may seem like it would be hard to not be tardy, I mean, come on shit happens. But, I have a few safety nets. I still have two personal time off days, so, if i am going to be late I can just take the morning off, call in, and use half of a PTO day. Or, i just "forget" to clock in and I tell my manager and she will clock me in at the correct time. I really don't think they consider all of these possibilities before they enact rules like this! Someone like me can and will ALWAYS find a way around the system in form of a loop hole...ALWAYS!

All I have to do now is sit and wait. Wait for the inevitable lay off once it comes time for the move. In a way, this is actually a relief. I don't have to damn thing now, and i will get laid off. It is pretty much just a waiting game at this point. Finally, some recognition of my relentlessly arduous work! I'm on my way, it feels so good to get some acknowledgement for my crafty ways!

And now, I have an amusing new name for my boss: Chauncy Pepper-Tooth! Brilliant! I have to give credit to my boyfriend for that one!

NO...NO...Not a Raise! Really...a Raise?!?

2007-08-01T07:40:00.000-05:00

The next day, Dull leaves along with his minions. The office is overflowing with gossip and speculation. We were never really told why some of those people were let go, but I think it has something to do with pensions and retirement costs ... in true American GM fashion.

I am green with envy and jealousy towards the lucky shits that got laid off. And to think most of them don't even appreciate it ... ingrates! I mean, they have no idea how good their life is about to get, they don't have to do one damn thing and they get paid for it. I'm sure most of them will waist the time actually looking for a job - amateurs! Or, if they do take advantage of the free time, they'll probably organize their sewing rooms, or maybe even increase the stamp collection if their feeling frisky.

The day after the layoffs, I think about calling in but instead I change my mind and go in ... late of course. A few hours into the morning my boss Loraine calls me into her office. Oh My GOD! Finally, its happening, I think to myself. I figured that after all the layoffs and my disappointed reaction, they decided to give me the boot as well.

When someone has no motivation for their job, and when they are actively trying to get fired, like myself, and already have disdain and disrespect for the company ... well ... a person like me tends to show it. On a regular basis I roll my eyes at my boss, ask questions that no one has the balls to ask, but everyone wants to know, and I assumed that after that behavior at the meeting yesterday, Dull decided to get rid of me. He could not stay and do it because he had to catch his flight. So, naturally he tells Loraine to do it! Sounds good to me! Yes, thats exactly what is going on! Awesome!

Okay, so, I am sitting in Loraine's office, looking at all of her pretentious diplomas on the wa- ... oh wait ... no I'm not! I was thinking of what a qualified boss would have on her walls, so let me try that again. I am sitting in Loraine's office, rolling my eyes at her kitten poster, and noticing the cat hair that has accumulated on her sweater ... I loathe cats, and I detest old useles cat people even more!

I am wondering if I have to wait to go to the unemployment office, or if i can go on the way home. I am choreographing the dance that I will do when I walk out of this office, and then again when I get home to my boyfriend. Should I start with the worm or end with it? What song should I sing? Free bird, Rockin' in the Free world, or Celebrate? I will most definitetly quote MLK Jr, "Free at Last..." How quick can I get my things together, and get the hell out of here? What bar will I go to to commemorate this remarkable affair? I cant wait to fill my fall schedule with 15 hours of insightful classes, I wonder if its too late to get into that Deviance and Social Control class.

My mind is racing ... at last i will be free. Free to create ... or destroy, free to do whatever the hell I want! We can move to Norman now, and my boyfriend and I will be able to have a little bit of time together before his unemployment ends. This is going to be the best day of my life, so hurry up and do the deed Loraine!

She begins,
"Well, as you know there have been significant cuts to the staff,"
Oh my god, oh my god, its really going to happen, i think i just peed a little!
"and a lot of positions have been alleviated."

Am I dreaming? I pinch myself and try to wake up, I'm not dreaming, aaahhh, its really happening - ok, you have got to shut up and listen, I wish she would just get to the firing! I want to tell her that it is not necessary to beat around the bush, I know whats coming ... and I am filled with ecstacy!

"Now, this means that we need some people to pick up the slack,"
Ok, whatever, your rambling - JUST DO IT ALREADY! My eyes are overflowing with anxious merriment, my palms are sticky and clammy, my heart is going to beat out of my chest ... and I'm loving it all! I am on the edge of my seat listening intently for those six glorious words - we have to let you go.
"and because we are going to be asking more out of our staff, and your work lately has been excellent,"
um, ok, I guess she just wants to pump me up, ya know, make me feel better about letting me go. If she only knew I am overwhelmingly happy right now ... I know whats coming!
"we're giving you a raise."
"what the fu-" i really almost said it too ... those are not the six words I was thinking of! A raise?
"it will be a $0.75 increase in you hourly pay, and it will go in affect the second week of August."

She looks at me as if I was drowning and she handed me an oxygen tank. Loraine is obviously pleased with herself, and is anxiously awaiting a kiss-ass moment. As if I was living on the streets and she just offered me a thousand dollars. I guess this closet christian did her good dead for the day ... she helped a meager poor helpless college student get a little more money. I mean, really, she should get the Nobel Peace Prize for this one! Cannonization is undoubtedly in her future, look out Jesus - Loraine just outshinned you!
"Um ... ok, well ... thanks?" I had no clue what to say, I was completely caught off guard.

WHAT? i am flabbergasted! Has she been working at the same place I have for the past 3 months? what the hell have i done to deserve this? I am now further away than ever! I am as close to speechless as I have ever been in my life. How could this happen? I have been working so hard to go in the other direction! Its like I can not do wrong with these people. Of course, when your work is compared to brainless obtuse dim-wits, you will always come out looking like a genius.

I walk out of the office with a horrible looking mug. I think everyone assumed I got laid off because of how disappointed I looked. No dance, no song, no quote, and no party tonight. Ah man, no Deviance and Social Control. Don't get me wrong, I mean, more money is always well and good. And if I have to be here, I would love to get more money. It's just that, I thought i was on the right track. I thought they were starting to take notice. I thought ... I guess that was my first mistake ... I thought. What do these people do all day that is making me look good in comparison?

I am trying to get fired, and I get a raise! What the hell?!?

The Mass lay-offs... Why Not me?!?!?

2007-07-30T07:49:00.000-05:00

After I had been regressing for about 3 months or so, I figure that i have to be getting close to getting fired soon... right? I mean, after all, the strategies I am using to get laid off are the exact reasons the majority of people here get laid off... coming in late and numerous sick days. Apparently, just relaxing on one's work is not enough because i have been inefficient, negligent, and all together careless about my work for about 6 months now... and nothing, not even so much as a 'lil talking to... nothing! But, the last few months have been severely unprofessional and sluggish, to say the least.

So, I assume that this behavior is slowly leaking its way to corporate (where the real decisions are made). The corporate office with my manager's boss Mr. Dull, is in New York. My boss does not have the authority to make any valid decisions without Dull's permission. Therefore, every time someone gets laid off or fired, Dull and a few other tools come in to do the dirty deed. He comes here about once a month to touch base, but when people are let go, he comes with some other goons from corporate.

July 11 - Dull and his two 'lil puppets come in... and everyone knows... someone is getting fired, which in turn means that one of our finest casinos here are going to get a significant increase in revenue soon... many of the people that work here are bingo and gambling addicts, including the managers.

Soon enough, the inevitable begins. It’s obvious to everyone that this is a mass lay-off. Finally...finally my efforts are going to pay off and I will no longer have to loose a small part of my soul on a daily basis!! I can feel it... the butterflies in my stomach are at war, my palms are clammy with nervous sweat, I can feel the beads of moisture accumulating on my forehead, and I can almost taste the cheap food I will have to buy when I loose 20% of my income... I can’t wait! - I envision how I will tell my boyfriend and whether to take my lay-off and go quietly, or go with a bang and let everyone in the office know exactly how I feel about them.

I watch as unexpected people are called into the office and walk out with a packet in hand and either smiling or in tears. Most look irate and astounded as they engage in the awkward walk to their desks to accumulate their simple-minded toys that litter their workspace. The first to go was our HR manager... this is shocking because she is a manager on salary that has been here for 30 years. This means they are making cuts in staff because of downsizing... this ups my chances!

Next to go were 4 scanners that were anticipated: Turtle, Nona, Tanner, and Bernadette. Turtle was one of our friends, so I was sorry to see him go - but, he was ecstatic! He came out of that office grinning like a shit eater and moon walked to his desk to clear it... it was hilarious!

As for the others... well... Bernadette was the female version of Boomhower from King of the Hill, maybe even worse! I never understood a word she said, so I really couldn't tell you what kind of person she was...? She was the biggest hillbilly I had ever seen. My boyfriend said she tried to convince him one time that she was a graffiti artist and she skateboarded all the time… we got a good laugh out of that one!!

Nona was the most ignorant person I had ever met! She was a short, fat, gambling, meth addict, with two kids. When she overheard that my boyfriend and I were vegans, she said,
"So, like... whad'yall eat, like a lot of cereal, er somethin?"
that pretty much explains her intelligence level, oh, and that was after we had clarified what a vegan was! I knew way too much about this woman, she would talk and talk without discretion. There is no reason why I should know that this 35 yr old obese woman had sex with her sister’s husband on a Pizza Hut prep table while working there late one night…this woman defines tactless.

And, as for Tanner, he was a typical obnoxiously ignorant 22 yr old. I guess he had formed an unhealthy admiration for my boyfriend's character, because Tanner absorbed all aspects of his person in an obsessive manner... the way he walked, talked, joked... everything! So, when he left, Tanner attempted to become him, in a very unhealthy freaky stalking-like fashion... it was bizarre and creepy, so i was relieved to see him go.

After the people in the back, there are more unexpected lay-offs. Meanwhile, I am anxiously waiting for my name to be called. I watch as all these people get called one at a time, and I am about to burst... I assume my turn is coming; it’s just a matter of time. So, I eagerly watch and wait.

Two more unforeseen people are gone, Bill and Jay. Bill had worked there for about 30 years, and Jay about 10 years. They are 45-60 and, for the most part, semi-normal when compared to everyone else. I feel bad for them and wonder why they are let go. They both do jobs around here that no one else would even know where to start if they had to do it. Bill was a quiet older heavyset guy with virtually no skills to carry him to another job. I am concerned for his local smoke shop though, he will most certainly have to cut back due to funds. His cough could be heard threw walls, and once told my boyfriend he smoked a pack before rising out of bed...and now, no insurance, let's hope he can fend off that lung cancer for a few more years.

Jay was an alcoholic with extremely shaky hands; he always appeared to be nervous and uncomfortable in his own skin. I would see him on occasion in his truck smoking pot out of an old metal pipe... i feel sorry for him.

After the guys, two people that work up in the front are gone, Edith and Roberta. Edith was part time and about 60 yrs old, but looked closer to 75. She was a typical old lady with not many impressive personality traits to remember, but the aroma that we coulud never quite pin-point permeated the halls. She would give me a recipe about once a week, thinking that it was vegan qualified, but never was, and some even had fish or chicken in them.

Roberta was one of the few people that i could tolerate. She was pleasant, calm, humorous, and understanding, and we were both anticipating unemployment with enthusiasm. So, she was happy to be cut free, but I miss her reserved nature.

I wait for my name... and wait... to no avail. All those people and not me... why? What did i do to deserve this job? Once all of the ex-employees are gone, we are all called into a meeting to discuss things. At this point, we were told that the business is moving out of state. The staff will be smaller than it is now, and the move will be soon.

OK, so, I did not make it this time... but there is still one more cut to go. I have to make that cut - - i have to!! I already have plans to move in January, so I have got to take drastic measures! Our staff is now sitting at 16 people... a few have quit, but when my boyfriend was here, there were 30 people... now 16, and I am still here! WHY? My work ethic in my first year is now biting me in my fleshy ass!... thanks dad… thanks so much for teaching me how to hold a job... I just wish I knew how to lose it!! In this case, a deadbeat dad would have come in handy!

What do I have to do to get my ass laid-off?!?

How Many Hillbillies Does it Take to equal 1 Academic? - A 4 to 1 Ratio

2007-07-27T09:48:00.000-05:00

After Portland the days go on.... i come in late, leave early, take long lunches, and pretty much just relax my attention to work. The only problem is that it is not in my nature to do all those things - and to me it is more work, because no matter how much i tell myself that i want to get laid off, it still stresses me out to do all of that. I dont like to be late. So in order to elliviate my stress i take a different aproach.

Rather than going thru the annoying psychology of running late - I usually get there on time and then wait... wait for the minutes to pass. Its nice because it gives my boyfriend and i the chance to have a little chat in the parking lot before i go in. Thats right - i sit in the lot in the car until i am about 5 minutes late. Im sure this is an odd sight to everyone else sprinting pass our car trying to get to the almighty time clock before the minutes read 7:01, I think they are starting to catch on. Its better this way because it doesnt give me that odd running late sensation. You see, I cant be too late because it affects my pay, too little and it will not be noticed - I have to be 4-8 minutes late. No more, no less! I've got this shit down to a sience.

So, at this point, I have started completely withdrawing from my normal work activities. I start slacking off... and i think i now do about 1-2 hours of actual work in the 8 hours I'm here a day. After doing this for 2 months, i think to myself: am i being too obvious? The other ladies in the office do the same kind of work that i do, so i ask them "how many do you check a day?" "Oh, about 200," they respond. Ok, this is when i realize how insufficient this company is... I DO 200 IN 2 HOURS!!! Thats right - I do the exact same amount of work in 2 hours that these people do in an entire day! My efforts for the past 2 months have been futile!

Lets do some math for a second:
-> 80 hrs in one paycheck (2 weeks)
-> 2 hrs of actual work a day
-> 10 hrs a week
-> 40 hrs a month
-> it takes me 2 months to do the work i get paid for in 2 weeks - - And this is the same quantity of work the hicks do fulltime
-> When i was working to my full potential I was doing 2 months of their work in 2 weeks!!
So, how many hillbillies does it take to equal 1 of me?
-The ratio is simple:
4 hillbillies = 1 me.... I have been working too hard! - That's right - I'm slowing it down even more.

Now, i recognize that there maybe a possibility that they are doing the same thing i am: surfing the net, emailing, basically busying myself with anything but work... and i figure this is a likelihood until 2 of them asked me one day,
"Hey, d'ya know how to get on the Internet here, we cant figure it out, do our computers not have that stuff?"
You may think i am making this up, i wish i was, i really do! Yes, they have the Internet on their computers, and i helped them get those Kenny Chestnut tickets. After all, country music is one of the finest arts we have here in the south.

Portland is my Salvation

2007-07-27T08:43:00.000-05:00

After my boyfriend got laid off we do what any logical person that just took a big hit in the wallet does - WE GO ON VACATION! My older brother was moving back to Portland, OR and asked us to help him move... I say "YES!" before he finishes his sentence.

Its a free trip and the plan is to drive up there with 2 trucks and 1 Subaru, all of which are packed to the brim, and he would pay for our flights back. So we drive... and drive... and drive some more - 3, 10 hour days of driving in separate cars, no company but the radio. All of that and it is still better than my best day at work! We bought a lot of audio books which come in handy more than we ever thought they would.

Portland was amazing! It was like we were in a different country. Everything is green, everyone had their own giant garden, and the trees... there were these monkey puzzle trees that were truly breathtaking, in every sense of the word! They are beyond description, all i can say is if you ever have the time - look them up, I'm sure pictures would not do them justice, but they are unique, unlike anything I have ever seen.

All of my senses there are rewarded with orgasmic encounters. Every shade of the entire color spectrum fill the sky, aromas of organic delights permeate the air infiltrating my nose, laughter and music saturate my ear, we eat naturally scrumptious vegan cuisine outside, and feel the cool sprinkles of moist atmosphere descend onto us from above... we are in paradise naturally bestowed to us from mother earth... thank you mother. We are surrounded by people that walk, talk, and look like us for a change. Don't get me wrong, homogenization is not the goal, innovative minds from all walks of life is the ambition of this exceptional city. Sustainable development... creativity... Eco-friendly philosophies... insightful family... what more could one ask for? This city defines community... you can really vote with your dollar, and support businesses with the same values you embrace. Needless to say, we had a brilliant time! We found our city - Greg and I are making plans to move there when we finish school!

We return and the next day... I'm at work, everything there encompassing all that is the exact opposite of Portland! But that city gave me an appreciation for my future - I now know that there is an ideal city out there for me without the closed minds that embrace this office... thank you to my big brother for showing me a life altering metropolis.

All By Myself... Dont want to be...All By Myself

2007-07-26T09:14:00.000-05:00

Ok, so... i am on my own. i am exploring new territory, breaking ground, in it to win it... or loose it i guess. The summer begins and the weather heats up along with my patience. Eveyone is giving me thier sincere condolences for my boyfriend's loss... HIS loss?!?.. No, no, no -> MY loss! Seriously, I mean, i hate to be self involved, but come on! I am annoyed more than ever - and everyone must know it!

In order to fully comprehend the provocations i am about to endure... I will fill you in on some of the personalities in the office. The women in the front (the office) are collectively the same. They are all proud god fearin, country lovin, finger lickin, tv worshipin, meat eatin, war fightin know-it-alls!!! They range in age from 32 - 60. And; though the education levels vary from GEDs to a few unclompleted semesters at one of our fine community colleges; you would think they just walked out of the proffessor's lounge at Havard the way they bestow advice to any ear in a 50 ft radius.

Now, you may be thinkng to yourself, "well, just ignore them, and politely let them know you are not interested."

Easier said than done. In this society, there exists a certain social code, a norm of interaction that ranges from polite body language to

"Get the hell away from me!"

I have tried everything... these people do not pick up on typical societal messages. I have begun to actually chronicle the amount of time that a person can continue to talk with no sign of interest by the other party-> i mean NO SIGN, i look at the floor and continue to busy myself with whatever i can, but they still talk... One girl talked AT me for over 10 minutes one time without me making eye contact, saying a word, or even a nod of the head! It has taken some hard work, but i think the message is slowly seeping into their gelatinous skulls.

The days progress and turn to weeks and soon, July is here. It feels like it has been a year without my boyfriend, James there. He tries to ease my suffering... he brings me lunch, cooks, cleans, and attempts to make things better in his own way. His voice over the phone is salvation - I call him many times at first, but slowly i reduce it to about 2 times daily.

You see, my situation is delicate - I can not get fired, I need to get laid off... there is a difference in the unemployment world. Or else I would just let everyone know what i think of them, go crazy, then collect my check. Cant quit either - I must get laid off. This means I must slowly but surely reverse my work habits.

My plans for life without this job are marvelous. I plan to move back to college town, finish my degree by going full time, live off of unemployment as long as i can, and have a happy life soaking up knowledge where i can. For the first time since i was 14 - i will not have to work! It's so close I can almost taste the horrendous water in that fine city. But not yet, more lazy work is to come.

InTroDuCtIoN - My BoYfRiEnD gEts lAiD oFf

2007-07-25T06:52:00.000-05:00

Well, as the title may suggest I have started this blog in hopes of tracking my journey into the land of lay-offs. First i will lay out the background for you to enjoy.

I have been working at a computer data processing business for just over two years. I got this job threw a friend... and soon enough a lot of friends were employed at this facility. So... there we all were - the easiest job we could find, having a grand old time. Soon enough the business was going down hill - (threw no fault of my friends and myself I'm sure)!!! Thru-out the months most of them were fired. Which left about 4 of us: myself, my wonderful and gorgeous boyfriend, Adam, and Turtle. Now... don't fret - we were not the only people working there. The majority of the workforce consisted of about 30 people, the bulk of whom are overweight and have a high school education (if that). Most of them qualify (as far as I'm concerned) as just above the retardation line.

The work here is not hard - by any means. It is mind numbingly boring, and i am convinced that hiring monkeys would be more efficient. There is a front room and a back workshop. I work in the front along with 8 other women who double me in age. All of my friends are in the back - which leaves me to either talk to these fascinating country folk, or slap my headphones on my head and tune into the ever interesting NPR. I choose the later... ALWAYS choose the later!!!

We are in the heartland of the bible belt. And to give a little background info... here's how I look on paper:
- college student - going strong at 5yrs, with about 1.5 yrs to go (and yes - that's for the 4yr bachelor degree) - I blame it on jumping around in my major (anthropology to teaching to nursing and now in a field relating to social interaction ... i dont want to get too specific, for my own protection) but really its just because i have at times been guilty; like many twenty somethings; of being a young vibrant slacker of a student.
- I have had a job since I was 14 yrs old, and I consider myself to have a decent work ethic (which, you will see later, is how I have gotten myself into this shit hole of a dilemma)
- I am a full time data analyst, interpreting images and processing the records ...zzzzzzzzzz........as i am reading that to myself - i realize it may sound hard... interesting... maybe even - dare i say - important - NO.....not even just a little, in fact i think my job is the exact reverse of that.

The company I work for involves and interacts with; but is not a part of; the oil industry (which i hate with a passion). Data is put on the computer in the shop, then entered into a database. At which point the wonderful and honest oil companies buy this information from us so that they can drill holes in preexisting wells to find oil. But oil companies are not the only customers - we sell to anyone interested in geological statistics...BORING!! And, to be honest, I didn't know this coming into this job... or else Greg and I would have never gotten into this mess!

Okay, so... in order to understand the mentality and dynamics of the office I will fill you in on my character:
- I am an environmentalist... proud feminist... you get the idea. I enjoy learning: history, philosophy, life...etc. Most would consider my outlook to be outside the box, but i think that depends on where your box is.
- I live in a small 1 bedroom apartment with my 2 fantastic dogs and my charming boyfriend.
- My boyfriend is currently attending school to obtain his graphic design degree. He is an amazing artist (but doesn't quite believe that... yet) He is kind, loving, brilliant, caring, compassionate...I could go on - but I will spare you that gushy stuff.
- We are peaceful lovers who enjoy life!!!

The company I work for is completely contradictory to anything and everything I consider to be honest, reasonable, or respectable... and you better believe that my friends that don't and have never worked there, use every opportunity to point this out. I don't consider myself a hypocrite though - I consider myself in need of money, with no wealthy mommy and daddy to give it to me! - Don't get me wrong, my parents are doing well, and they love me very much... which is why they don't just give me money for no reason... I work for my money, and there is respect in that. My parents pay for my education, and that is more than most can say - so I am extremely thankful for that help.
So, the company is failing, and so begins the journey.

MAY - '07
We are told that the there will be cuts in the staff by the end of the summer. When they told us this my boyfriend and I were ecstatic - finally we can get laid off at the same time - get unemployment - and travel all summer... or so we thought.
About a week later he is laid off. When this happened - we were pissed. After the cursing and the anger - He realizes that he just made out like a bandit! - He gets severance pay - 2 weeks worth, unemployment - which ended working out to be 80% of his regular pay, and he only has to do 2 work searches a week... oh and a business card qualifies as a work search. He is thrilled - we had just gotten 2 puppies, and we love animals. He gets to play with them all day, work on his art, catch up on reading, schoolwork, and do whatever he wants - and get paid for it !!

Meanwhile, I am livid!! I have to work at this place by myself ? - With no boyfriend? I don't know how this is going to work. He usually talks me off the ledge about 10 times a day. So, I become a very disgruntled employee! - I was already filled with apathy towards my job, but now... well.. now, i am no longer indifferent to this situation... I am in opposition, hostile, critical of their every move. I am in hell!

We had already considered this to be some kind of social experiment coupled with anger management, but now i am on my own... and i am now determined... determined to get laid off!!!
Let the games begin!