"Everything Sucks All The Time" ~Geoff Cooper
Ok, sorry Coop for stealing your quote, but it is the only title I could possibly think of for this rant. I mean, it's to the point, and dead on. The perfect title for the perfect fucking day.
I say day, which is bullshit. More like year...and it's only fucking February. As if you haven't guessed already, Meghan is in one of her moods. A mood that really should be kept to herself, but that just ain't me. Besides, no one reads this thing anyway. So if you hate depressive whiners, move on. Nothing to see here.
What set me off today? Better question would be what DIDN'T set me off. But I'll try to stick to the point. Woke up with a migraine. That's nothing new. Only today nothing seems to be working on it. So you can imagine the happy mood I came to work with. That brings us to the major issue of the day. Work. The day job. Or as I like to refer to hit, the burning pit of misery. And I don't even give a fuck anymore if a co-worker or my boss reads this. Here, just in case....FUCK YOU BRIAN! Ah, I can hear unemployment calling me now. Who gives a flying fuck!
He struts into my office today with his usual smirk. Closes the door behind him. Definitley not a good sign. I actually had a brief shining hope that I was getting canned, but no such luck. He tells me I'm overdrawn on vacation days. Ok, I know I've taken a lot of time off lately (fucking winter!) but I keep track of my days. I have 2 left. He begs to differ. He wants me to write down a list of every day I was out. I did. I still have TWO FUCKING DAYS. We'll see what he thinks. I'm sure his math will win though. What else is new. But that's not even the worst part. Let me tell you a little something about my boss Brian:
Loves to give arbitrary deadlines, if he gives them at all. Never can remember what assignment he gave to whom and when it's due. Doesn't remember to do half of his own assignments. He's the vice fucking president, but WE have to remind him to do his job. Getting the picture? Granted, I wouldn't take his job if my life depended on it, but he gets to make the big bucks, so I'm not shedding tears.
So, after the vacation day talk he starts talking to me like I'm a moron. How I need to be more organized (coming from him I really had to hold down my chuckle) and pay attention to deadlines. He said "I know I'm soft on deadlines, but I'm getting really backed up here." Let me mention that I have NEVER missed a deadline. Basically, he spent about 15 minutes telling me I need to shape up. This from the man who had to be reminded TODAY to write an article that is due tomorrow.
Now, let me fill you in on what I do here. Let's see....oh....EVERYTHING! If there's a new project, it's handed to me. If there's extra work to be done, they call on Meghan. I already take care of more crap here than anyone else in editorial. But I get the least amount of recognition. Want to know why? I have a kid. Yup, that's it. He HATES women with kids. The day he hired me he made sure to ask if I had proper care for my child during the day. Being that we're in the employment law business, he knew better...that question is ill-fucking-legal. He feels women with children are not as devoted to their jobs. Let me see...do I love my daughter more than my job....yup. Oops! My bad! I should be given 40 lashes with a wet noodle!
Ok, so I'm going on and on, but you get the point. So, I'm not having a dandy day. Add that to the months of misery I've had as of late and you get one depressed/frustrated/angry/readytokillmotherfucka. Christ I feel bad for my shrink. This Thursday's appointment will be a doozy I'm sure. Tell me again why I bother? Tell me again that life is beautiful and I should consider every day a fucking gift? Well, I have something to tell you Hallmark motherfuckin shiny happy people. FUCK YOU! And you can quote me. Simple, and to the point. And dead-on. End transmission.
Ok, sorry Coop for stealing your quote, but it is the only title I could possibly think of for this rant. I mean, it's to the point, and dead on. The perfect title for the perfect fucking day.
I say day, which is bullshit. More like year...and it's only fucking February. As if you haven't guessed already, Meghan is in one of her moods. A mood that really should be kept to herself, but that just ain't me. Besides, no one reads this thing anyway. So if you hate depressive whiners, move on. Nothing to see here.
What set me off today? Better question would be what DIDN'T set me off. But I'll try to stick to the point. Woke up with a migraine. That's nothing new. Only today nothing seems to be working on it. So you can imagine the happy mood I came to work with. That brings us to the major issue of the day. Work. The day job. Or as I like to refer to hit, the burning pit of misery. And I don't even give a fuck anymore if a co-worker or my boss reads this. Here, just in case....FUCK YOU BRIAN! Ah, I can hear unemployment calling me now. Who gives a flying fuck!
He struts into my office today with his usual smirk. Closes the door behind him. Definitley not a good sign. I actually had a brief shining hope that I was getting canned, but no such luck. He tells me I'm overdrawn on vacation days. Ok, I know I've taken a lot of time off lately (fucking winter!) but I keep track of my days. I have 2 left. He begs to differ. He wants me to write down a list of every day I was out. I did. I still have TWO FUCKING DAYS. We'll see what he thinks. I'm sure his math will win though. What else is new. But that's not even the worst part. Let me tell you a little something about my boss Brian:
Loves to give arbitrary deadlines, if he gives them at all. Never can remember what assignment he gave to whom and when it's due. Doesn't remember to do half of his own assignments. He's the vice fucking president, but WE have to remind him to do his job. Getting the picture? Granted, I wouldn't take his job if my life depended on it, but he gets to make the big bucks, so I'm not shedding tears.
So, after the vacation day talk he starts talking to me like I'm a moron. How I need to be more organized (coming from him I really had to hold down my chuckle) and pay attention to deadlines. He said "I know I'm soft on deadlines, but I'm getting really backed up here." Let me mention that I have NEVER missed a deadline. Basically, he spent about 15 minutes telling me I need to shape up. This from the man who had to be reminded TODAY to write an article that is due tomorrow.
Now, let me fill you in on what I do here. Let's see....oh....EVERYTHING! If there's a new project, it's handed to me. If there's extra work to be done, they call on Meghan. I already take care of more crap here than anyone else in editorial. But I get the least amount of recognition. Want to know why? I have a kid. Yup, that's it. He HATES women with kids. The day he hired me he made sure to ask if I had proper care for my child during the day. Being that we're in the employment law business, he knew better...that question is ill-fucking-legal. He feels women with children are not as devoted to their jobs. Let me see...do I love my daughter more than my job....yup. Oops! My bad! I should be given 40 lashes with a wet noodle!
Ok, so I'm going on and on, but you get the point. So, I'm not having a dandy day. Add that to the months of misery I've had as of late and you get one depressed/frustrated/angry/readytokillmotherfucka. Christ I feel bad for my shrink. This Thursday's appointment will be a doozy I'm sure. Tell me again why I bother? Tell me again that life is beautiful and I should consider every day a fucking gift? Well, I have something to tell you Hallmark motherfuckin shiny happy people. FUCK YOU! And you can quote me. Simple, and to the point. And dead-on. End transmission.
posted by Meghan at 1:14 PM
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