I know, it's all fun and games and performance bonuses and bottomless pantry coffee until somebody loses an eye. Or the will to login on time because you're complying yourself to exhaustion. And then it becomes so paralyzingly dull. You suddenly don't mind if you're late now, or yesterday, or the day before because the eagerness to suck up has grayed itself out. You don't mind any memos farting in your general direction, not anymore, so you get a pen and imagine an excuse that's just as fabulous as your punctuality. You then remember that you were absent the day before that, but you're approaching that stage where you don't give a shit. Okay, shits, if you really had too much.
Memos? Just bring it on, you tell yourself.
Whiny coworkers and them hissy others saturate an already stressful environment and give it the toxicity of snake venom. Which is the last thing you need, really, seeing as you're already doing technical support for mostly hysterical boobs who give you a. attitude or b. stupid or c. both. But you don't mind that; it's on the fine print of your job contract (expect a lot of dumb ass sons of bitches). What you didn't expect are rotten dicks who signed the same damn contract you did and they're just as complaining as the babies who pay you to do technical support for them.
I know there's a thousand-word bitch fit for what I'm feeling right now, but just writing it away and being all too sexy about it doesn't pay the bills. My kinky night job doing technical support does that all too well. Yes, it gets my panties in a bunch from time to time, but it gets me new panties at the same time, so I'm not going to be that much of a baby about it. I will elect to stay put, keep them Very Satisfied, clean up my ACT, try to keep my seat from being slip, and wait for that next pay raise. Hell, I just got my second raise this early on THIS YEAR, so at least there's something to keep me
Writing that away doesn't make me any less choosy as to my preferred line of work. I'm still looking for job openings for tellers in a sperm bank.
My Resignation Letter (from an earlier Telemarketing gig)
Confessions of a Telemarketer
My Basic Work Philosophies (Part One)