(no subject)
Please, no one worry... I'm still alive. Don't stress out over anything... I mean, I was close to the breaking point but let's face it, we all know I'm stronger than that. However, I still feel like shit. Like I've been run over by a car. And I gigantic one at that. Like... an 18 wheeler... or a tank or something. But hey, atleast I didn't have a ridiculous allerigic reaction to the NEW pills, right? Right.
We're having a meeting at work Tuesday night. I'm excited about this one because my boss is going to make the whole thing about the fucking kids club that we have but I have other plans. I'm going to be bringing up all the shit that has been really pissing me off lately. Like you get a half hour break which you can do what you want with. If you decide to eat you either eat at a table or in the food court. There will be NO more eating at the front counter. And speaking of the front counter, it needs to be kept clean. Kept clean of papers and shit being all over the place, as well as friends hanging around. And then there's supplies. EVERYONE in that booth knows how to make copies. So when we're running low on the Gift Card order form or the daily sheet we use, or the wheelchair form, or anything else for that matter... take the fucking paper and make copies of it! When we're running low on Gift Cards, call Lynda and let her know. Get paper for the printer and for the credit card machines. The directories need to be filled and checked EVERY day as well as the Perfect Picks. We need to have gift card envelopes as well as holders. Stop leaving everything up to me to fucking do. And this shit where we're going to up and leave for 10 to 15 minutes at a time, several times during the day? Nope. We're done with that too. I only make 34 cents more then those fuckers... and that 34 cents more doesn't even begin to cover my daily paperwork, my deposits, my reconciliations on the MONTHLY paper work, the fucking copy and fax spread sheet, the daily input of the gift card numbers, and plenty more. So fuck all that supply shit. Everyone else can do that. I have enough to do. I'm tired of everyone thinking that they come into work to do a few gift cards and have their face cramed up against the computer screen, diddly daddling on the internet. THAT IS NOT YOUR JOB! I find it hilarious how when we're asked to do stupid ass shit like make thousands of phone calls every month for events that we have and people say "This isn't part of job discription" Yeah? Well neither is sitting on your fucking ass all day doing fucking nothing! Neither is playing games on the internet all day long. Neigther is talking on the phone hours on end. Neither is getting up for 15 breaks a day. But hey, it's alright for you to do it so long as it's not actually work related. Well FUCK.....THAT......SHIT. No more of it. Tuesday evening, Erica will be speaking the majority of the time, not Kafi.
Phew... I feel much better. I can't wait to actually say it all now!
I think I should start bringing OJ and Vodka to work every day. Maybe if I'm buzzed all day long I'll be able to put up with the fucking retards that I work with... and not want to pull my hair out of my scalp.
Alright, I think I'm done ranting and raving for now.
Jillian... where have you been and what have you been doing? I miss you.
I'm out
Bye Kiddies.
We're having a meeting at work Tuesday night. I'm excited about this one because my boss is going to make the whole thing about the fucking kids club that we have but I have other plans. I'm going to be bringing up all the shit that has been really pissing me off lately. Like you get a half hour break which you can do what you want with. If you decide to eat you either eat at a table or in the food court. There will be NO more eating at the front counter. And speaking of the front counter, it needs to be kept clean. Kept clean of papers and shit being all over the place, as well as friends hanging around. And then there's supplies. EVERYONE in that booth knows how to make copies. So when we're running low on the Gift Card order form or the daily sheet we use, or the wheelchair form, or anything else for that matter... take the fucking paper and make copies of it! When we're running low on Gift Cards, call Lynda and let her know. Get paper for the printer and for the credit card machines. The directories need to be filled and checked EVERY day as well as the Perfect Picks. We need to have gift card envelopes as well as holders. Stop leaving everything up to me to fucking do. And this shit where we're going to up and leave for 10 to 15 minutes at a time, several times during the day? Nope. We're done with that too. I only make 34 cents more then those fuckers... and that 34 cents more doesn't even begin to cover my daily paperwork, my deposits, my reconciliations on the MONTHLY paper work, the fucking copy and fax spread sheet, the daily input of the gift card numbers, and plenty more. So fuck all that supply shit. Everyone else can do that. I have enough to do. I'm tired of everyone thinking that they come into work to do a few gift cards and have their face cramed up against the computer screen, diddly daddling on the internet. THAT IS NOT YOUR JOB! I find it hilarious how when we're asked to do stupid ass shit like make thousands of phone calls every month for events that we have and people say "This isn't part of job discription" Yeah? Well neither is sitting on your fucking ass all day doing fucking nothing! Neither is playing games on the internet all day long. Neigther is talking on the phone hours on end. Neither is getting up for 15 breaks a day. But hey, it's alright for you to do it so long as it's not actually work related. Well FUCK.....THAT......SHIT. No more of it. Tuesday evening, Erica will be speaking the majority of the time, not Kafi.
Phew... I feel much better. I can't wait to actually say it all now!
I think I should start bringing OJ and Vodka to work every day. Maybe if I'm buzzed all day long I'll be able to put up with the fucking retards that I work with... and not want to pull my hair out of my scalp.
Alright, I think I'm done ranting and raving for now.
Jillian... where have you been and what have you been doing? I miss you.
I'm out
Bye Kiddies.