Tag Archives: I hate my job

Why my life sucks

Well, I fell off the grid again. To my defense my life sucks and I have no time to breathe, or eat, let alone blog.

Remember my life sucking job? Yep, well we’re entering into our busy season and since I have been unsuccessful at finding a new job I have to tighten my pants and work.  Which has made me even more miserable, because that means working over time, not taking lunches, and clicking my little mouse as fast as I possibly can to keep up with the hundreds of emails I get every day.  It’s all I can do to bust my ass from 8:30-5 to get rid of a few hundred emails so that I can go home and immediately get in bed.  Which brings me to my next point.

I now have to go to bed at 6pm in order to get a good night’s rest.  I have crack addicts for roommates, some of them stay up until midnight or 1am and the ones that don’t get up at 4:30am.  They’re all loud and the most annoying people on the face of the Earth.  In short, I’m only getting a solid 3 hours of sleep each night, the rest is interrupted and I wake up a lot because they feel the need to slam doors, cabinets, their toothbrushes onto the counter, etc, etc.

Needless to say I have been going to hometown every weekend so that I can catch up on sleep and feel rested and like a human again on Sunday before the vicious cycle starts all over.

But really, I just want to scream.  Because I hate my job.  I hate everyone at my job, I hate the walls, I hate the phone, I hate the file cabinets, hell I even hate the janitor.  I have never been more miserable in my whole in entire life and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.  I have to work until I find another job because I have bills to pay and I’m an A-dult.  But really, I just want everyone to fuck off and leave me alone. 

And that’s all I can say because I’ve wasted 10 minutes writing this and in that time I’ve gotten 27 emails.  Good day.

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28 before 28 – doing it!

As Lucky mentioned last week, Sunday was my birthday.  I’m 27 now and it doesn’t feel any different than 26, or 22 for that matter.  Except the fact that I’m closer to 30, which bums me out.  But people keep saying 30 is the new 20, so I’m going to believe it.

I know we drone on a lot about how we’re single and how everyone else our age is married and having babies and wah wah poor us.  Honestly, when I was a little girl and I thought all the time about what my life would be like when I was 27.  For starters, I was expecting to be married, to Zac Hanson/JTT (depending on the year).

Which clearly I’m still in the running for.  I was never one to be all about having babies though, from a pretty young age I knew that I would wait until I was in my mid thirties before I would start popping out noise makers.  I mean, why ruin a hot bod before its necessary? And when I start having babies that will most likely also be the end of it too.  Twins would be the ideal situation so I can get 2 for the price of one and be done.

Anyway, the point is that I’m 27 and my life is nothing like what I expected it to be.  I thought I would be married, not living in the big city, not hating my job, and that life would be peachy.  With the exception of my job sucking donkey, I’m pretty happy with where I’m at.  I don’t rely on anyone for money, some dude doesn’t run my life, and somehow I’ve held it together enough to not have a nervous breakdown and stab my co-workers in the eyes with pencils.

For my birthday celebration I went to visit a friend that lives in a college town with her mom.  When we were younger, hanging out with people’s parents was really a buzz kill, but since we’ve all become legal to drink it’s a lot more fun now.  Anyway, my friend’s mom is recently divorced and her new divorcee outlook on life is pretty much spot on with how I want to lead the rest of my life.  Her new motto is that she only wants to surround herself with people who bring light to her life, and people whose life she brings light to.  Yeah it’s kind of hippie dippie, but that’s her and she makes a good point.  It also lines up with what Lucky and I have been saying for a while now, that the negative people need to get the fuck out.  Since we’ve both been lacking the drama in our lives lately, I’d say we’re doing a pretty good job at that, with the exception of our work lives.

Since things are probably going to start going downhill after 27, I thought it best to make a list of all the things I’d like to accomplish before my 28th birthday, you know that’s the new thing to do 35 things to do before 35 blah blah, so I’m doing 28 things to do before I turn 28 –  most of mine aren’t life changing so don’t get too excited.  I will however keep everyone updated on my progress of marking things off the list:

  1. Quit my job
  2. Find a new job
  3. Move closer to hometown
  4. Have sex with Zac Efron and/or Ryan Gosling and ultimately trick one of them into marrying me
  5. Visit Las Vegas (almost there!)
  6. Get over my fear of having people touch my feet and get a pedicure
  7. Buy a new car
  8. Go on a date with a stranger
  9. Start a retirement savings account outside of the one my job offers
  10. Do Lucky’s infamous 14 day detox
  11. Finish learning to play the piano
  12. Buy living room/dining room furniture
  13. Complete a painting
  14. Pay off a student loan
  15. Take the GRE
  16. Apply for Masters programs
  17. Put money aside for mine and Lucky’s 30th birthday Euro trip
  18. Lose 8 pounds/tone up
  19. Buy a new camera
  20. Visit a winery
  21. Get renters insurance
  22. Try a gluten free diet
  23. Get the mole on my neck that bugs me removed
  24. Do something selfless to help out a stranger
  25. Take myself on an awesome date, that means a nice dinner and a movie – alone (already know which movie I’m going to see!)
  26. Volunteer some time to a good cause
  27. Buy the best anti-wrinkle/eye firming cream out there
  28. Find the DeLorean and Doc Brown, and take a drive back to my 18th birthday so I can do it all over again
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Valentine’s Day Re-Hashed

Did everyone have a super lovey dovey Valentine’s Day? This year didn’t pan out as bad for me as past years have, but I still kind of wanted to slit my wrists and lie in the bathtub.  Oh and I had a super weird meeting with one of my bosses that made me feel dirty.

I should back up a few months, I failed to mention to everyone that before I left for my big Christmas trip to Hawaii I got a promotion.  Go me! I was pretty excited about it, I would be getting more responsibility, a(n) slave intern, a small raise, and most importantly my own office – far far away from Ciggy Breath and his noises.  Ah, the thought of my cube days being over was enough to tickle my pickle.

I knew it would take some time for my bosses to hire my replacement, and they told me that my office was currently occupado because of another building being under construction.  But, I am happy to report the replacement for my old job started Monday and my office will be ready for move in on March 13th!

So that brings us to yesterday.  My boss’s boss sent me a meeting invitation to go over transitioning the new girl into my position and what I should be prepared to train her on, etc, etc. A few minutes before the meeting she comes to my desk and says to come with her because we’ll be meeting with the CFO and the Director of my department too.  My thoughts? OH SHIT! They found the blog! Goodbye job, goodbye money, goodbye big city, goodbye health insurance.  Hello moving back in with Mom.

They started off the meeting by kissing my ass “off the record”.  They went on for a solid 20 minutes about what an amazing job I’m doing, how they know I’m not using my full potential at the job, how they all know a lot of people outside of our company and if I’d ever like to go elsewhere I should let them know where and they can hook it up because they want to see me do big things.  And on that note, they said that they would like to see me continue at our company and they were willing to make it worthwhile for me by providing me with incentives.  So now I’m thinking I might get another raise and that would make me muy muy happy.  Because I am poor.  Seriously, my bank account has $37 in it and I don’t get paid for 2 more weeks. Sigh.

Anyway, THEN they were like… buuuutttttt we want to talk to you about some things happening in the office.  [insert here what your face looks like when your stomach falls into your butt.]  “We’d like to talk to you about your neighbor, Ciggy Breath.” Oh shew! “Does he bother you? Anything you say will be off the record, we won’t ever use your name.” Ok, this is weird right? Why is this whole meeting “off the record”?

I don’t think it’s a question in anyone’s mind whether Ciggy Breath is annoying or not, we all know he’s The Worst.  So I told them.  “I mean yeah, he irritates me and disrupts my workflow because he’s so loud and obnoxious.  But I think that’s because the rest of us are so quiet, and he’s so not.” Apparently this wasn’t the type of dirt they were looking for, they all exchanged glances and moved in closer, “But has he said anything inappropriate to you that makes you feel uncomfortable or that has crossed a line?” Hold the bus.  Am I understanding this right? Are we trying to slap Ciggy Breath with a sexual harassment suit?

If they would have given me some more time I probably could’ve come up with some things I had heard him say to other people on the phone that were inappropriate, but my brain was kind of scrambled, “Uhhh… I can’t think of anything off the top of my head that he’s said that was inappropriate or off color that offended me.” Then they were all like, “This is anonymous, we want you to tell us if ANYTHING has been said, we’ll never use your name, we just need to know.” Trust me.  If I had some dirt on Ciggy Breath I would ABSOLUTELY come forward in a heartbeat to get him fired.  But I don’t, which sucks.

So after that sufficiently awkward meeting I went back to my desk and facebook chatted with Lucky the rest of the day.  Apparently my slacking off every day keeps this business afloat.

Then I went home, and while most girls were enjoying a nice filet mingon steak and a bottle of the finest vino with their significant other, I sat in bed and watched Teen Mom and chowed on a couple of those super yummy Dunkin Donut Valentine’s Day heart shaped donuts, yeah the ones with the chocolate chips, and didn’t feel bad about it.  I win!

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CRAZY STRESSED!!!

So because I am crazy stressed and feel like this monkey looks:

I am going to opt out of rambling about how much my life sucks today.  It’s like I know you guys know it sucks, and you know you guys know it sucks, and you know I know you guys know it sucks, but I continue to ramble about it every day. So, I’m going to shut my pie hole, get back to work so I can go home before midnight, and leave you with this lovely gem to curb everyone’s frickin baby fever…

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No really, I hate you.

Aside from my shitty dating life, one of the reasons Gizzy & I started this blog was so we could have a place to bitch about our professional lives. I know, it’s really difficult to believe that I even have one. But I do. So it’s time I introduce my work place to you.

I am the editor of a website. I write some things for it, but mainly edit content. I don’t do design, or flash, and I do very little coding. All of those things are assigned to other people on the web team I work with.

Just to make sure we are on the same track, I love the work I do. The people I work with, however, get on my damn nerves. For starters, I am the youngest person in my office by at least 10 years. This means nearly everyone I work with is married, has children, and owns a home.

So instead of them seeing me as young, fresh talent, they all think I’m a drunk, that I dress inappropriately, and that I’m trying to sabotage the website by using hidden messages to promote Obama’s agenda.

Please.

To let you know how annoying this place is, you probably need an example. Last year, for my one year evaluation, I got great marks on all of the actual work I do, but I got bad marks on the dress code and attitude. One of my bosses said I had unpleasant facial expressions during meetings. Yeah.

What the fuck am I supposed to do during meetings? Have a damn smile plastered on my face for the entire 2 hours while you ramble on about a fucking homeless dog you fed? And the dress code…christ. I got in trouble the first time for wearing navy pants that resembled jeans. Then, I got in trouble for wearing cropped pants. They were dry-clean-only and from J-Crew, mind you!

What pisses me off is not the dress code. It’s the fact that people who kiss ass can wear whatever they want. Goucho pants? sure. Shower shoes/flip-flops? No problem! But our little drunk editor? No, she must wear a suite, closed toed heels, and no jewelry.

But there is one thing that makes me angrier than the dress code and the need for pleasant facial expressions—our social media coordinator, Fatso.

I want him to drop dead. No seriously, I hate him.

He is that guy who starts arguments just to start them. He believed Tiger Woods owed him a personal apology. He also didn’t think it was a big deal that we had our first black president. He wants to legalize prostitution and marijuana. He shaved his head and not his beard so he looks like a fucking idiot. When he sits in meetings, he strokes his beard. And he is fat. And wears mandals.

And I hate every damn second of it.

From day one of working here, Fatso and I didn’t get along. He tried to ask me on dates and I shot him down, which wasn’t a great beginning. Then, he tried to pretend he was my boss, when in fact, he is not. Instead, he is one of those guys who believes women shouldn’t have equal positions or pay, simply because we are women. He is that guy, who is always hanging out at the water cooler asking passing coworkers if they think “this is reality.”

Fuck. My. Ass.

But the actual instances that pissed me off in the beginning have transformed into complete resentment because this fucker gets away with EVERYTHING. Yeah, he gets to wear mandals so we all see his nasty toes, and he doesn’t keep a clean beard, but he also comes into the office whenever he wants. While I’m here at 8 am everyday, he’s here at 9, 10, 11, sometimes even 12:30. What the fuck? AND he makes more than everyone on our web team, aside from our boss (whom he calls Boss Lady).

The latest drama I had with Fatso happened yesterday, when I got this e-mail from him:

My dear writers,

I need answers to this question: What is it like to be a Bearcat? The morning FaceBook update this week will answer that question in different ways. If y’all want to test some wording being used in the recruitment campaign, this is a good venue.

Sincerely,

Fatso

Like okay, I’m not YOUR writer. We are coworkers. Secondly, you get PAID MORE THAN ME to write status updates for our flipping facebook page, so fucking do it. How much help do you need to write a sentence or two? Do I need to clip your toenails for you too? Here’s an idea asshole, why don’t you just make the status update: “What’s it like to be a Bearcat?” It’s facebook, not the fucking healthcare bill.

So, when I didn’t respond to the e-mail he found me in the hallway and was like, “so Lucky, you gonna help me out?”

Me: “Excuse me?”

Fatso: “I sent you an e-mail this morning asking for help on the status updates. I want them to be themed each week.”

Me: “Umm no I’m not helping you. It’s facebook…meaning your job, not mine.”

Fatso: strokes beard.

I left before he could ask me if I was talking in reality or in my imagination.

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