AAARGGHH!
YOU’VE BEEN RENOVATING THE FUCKING FLAT FOR THREE MONTHS NOW, WHY ARE YOU STILL DRILLING THE WALLS, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD JUST SHUT UP, I’M A WORKING WOMAN, I NEED SLEEP, FUCK YOU NEIGHBORS, ALSO YOU’VE LAID DOWN THE FLOOR TILES __THEN__ STARTED TEARING DOWN THE WALLS, YOU PRETTY MUCH FIXED EVERYTHING AND YOU’RE __STILL__ DRILLING THE WALLS, WHAT THE FUCK, ARE YOU CRAZY?? FUCKING GOD DAMMIT, STOP THE FUCKING NOISE!!
This rant was brought to you by the drilling machine and the hammers the guys use in the flat below ours. Also, for comparison: we overhauled the bathroom, laid floor tiles, put on wall tiles for the kitchen and changed all the windows in the flat some years ago. It was done in a week. I KNOW they pretty much rebuild everything, but really now…
On other news-
ATM, I HATE my life and I want people be dead. I want to go back in time and beat the department leader senseless when she asked me to transfer to this other job.
It robbed me of my roleplaying time, the only thing that was still a source of pure enjoyment in my life. The woman that showed me around, demanded to know when I want to have my days off ALL SUMMER, and NOW. I didn’t even have a calendar. My summer is practically blown.
Also, you probs can’t take days off at the middle of the month, and if you take only a few days off a week, it automatically turns dayshift week for you (= no bonus pay).
Said woman kept giving off the vibes like “I have told you this already, why can’t you just do it?” Because I started like two hours ago, you bitch?
The work isn’t difficult - except that I should have several pairs of eyes, to watch what I’m supposed to copy, to see what I’m writing, and preferably a third to see which keys I’m hitting because I’ve never needed to blind-type in all my life. A fourth won’t hurt either, to watch the data at the top left corner.
Fifty minutes intense keyboardsmashing then ten minutes for a break. In comparison, I spent the last four years working 30 min and having a 30 min break. I have no idea how those women eat.
Aside the stress of copying the ~20 digit number strings right (often from a bad quality scan), my seat was fucking uncomfortable, my shoulders started to hurt in no time, and by the sixth hour, my right hand’s fingers were aching, too (we’re required to use the numeric board).
That beyotch told me what to do, I was doing it to the best of my abilities, concentrating hard on not making a mistake and she was “Hey, hey, if you have a question, ask! Talk to me! Make a sound! You’re so quiet! =D” Fuck you, am I here to chat, or to work?! Can’t you see I’m concentrating??
I hope a truck will flatten the department leader, then the driver will roll back to check how flat she became. Forever cursed may be the day I agreed to take one for the team… or not get fired. >( If I had known this, I might have just told the boss “Then fire me”.
I am frustrated, angry, desperate, exhausted and feeling betrayed. I guess crying would help, but I managed to not burst into tears on the mass traffic vehicles on my way home, and that’s such an accomplishment compared to the last few years that I want to enjoy it while it lasts.
Please refrain from pitying me, because that just makes me feel worthless. Please also refrain from hurrah-optimistic outbursts, because those just make me cry from frustrated anger. Yes, I’m an overly complicated, ungrateful bitch. Thank you.
If you really care, send silent waves of positive energy, cookies/chocolate, pictures of cure animals and links to hot Loki or Jarvis fics.