Saturday, September 27, 2008
There. The rant about work that I've been saving up for a special occasion is spilling forth today! Pop the champagne and put on some funky beat, DJ!Time to fish out you your best sardonic grin and wear it for all its worth. And nows your cue to say "I told you so~ -ouch!!!- what's that for?".
What's with the last part of that sentence? Hold that thought.
*Knocks your teeth out with a sledgehammer*
There. Now you know.
I said you could say it but I didn't swear on my granny's grave I won't do anything about that smirking and not to forget ugly slob that you've got on your shoulder.
I meant your head, you doofus.
Reader bashing aside, I've really endured enough depressing repetitions over the past 1 year and a few miserable months to finally say, "I've had it!!!"
And the final straw was...
When an email that its way to my handler regarding the National Education tour I was to participated the next day and he chance upon something interesting he would liked to share with me.
The instruction he interpreted and in turn relayed to me pretty much hung a smile on my face. It states though I have to attend in civilian clothings which meant that I had to drag around my pair of heavy safety boots and a bag bulging with my overalls.
However, I could just for that day, against the standing policy which prohibits coming to work in civilian clothings, turn up in them without having to saddle myself with cumbersome burden!
Just another cog in the grease smeared clockwork of the organisation.
Did he like farted?!
Oh wow! He's an unique snowflake afterall!
That next day came and I happily came to work in civilian clothings. Only to have the superior of my handler waltz right up to me and delivered my verbal chastisement with a generous peppering of saliva.
Spraying so much saliva in one serving is no mean feat, people. Don't try that at home. Or anywhere else for that matter.
Sigh.
Anyway, in its distilled form, the above mentioned example is just another clone of the day to day story of my carreer life.
1)Some git who outranks me will dish out some some partial or fucked up instruction
2)I will be a good little soldier boy and do as I'm told.
3)The problem sown by that fucked up instruction dispensed earlier on will come home to roost in time.
4)The problem will surface.
5)I will get fucked, though it isn't mind fault to begin with.
Multiply the above situation by the 2 years already spent in the force and the 5 remaining ones.
And I've had 560 workdays of generous tongue lashing so far and I'll be getting another 1300 more of it, before shaving off leaves and public holidays that is. Wohoo!
Tell me how do I not love my work?
FUNKED IT ALL UP ON 1:03:00 AM