Douchebaggery HOOOOOO!

So there’s nothing they can do. I am, as they say, up shit’s creek without a paddle regarding the job situation.

I’m past the emo . . . wait, maybe not:

Okay NOW I’m past the EMO HILLARYS ARE EMO phase and more onto the ROCK ON BITCHES I’LL SHOW YOU phase. I had a long talk with the supervisor who has supported me since this process began a month ago, and she’s not only pushing for me to get full time hours with the company, she’ll be pushing for me to become Support.

What is Support, you may say. Besides the wondrous thing bras do for funbags, Support is the on duty liason between the phone reps and the managers. Essentially? They are junior managers and get the fun job of not only directing phone rep traffic, but taking escalated calls. Yes, that’s right. I’m volunteering to get screamed at by people angry about television. Why? Mainly because they don’t get to me that much. Honestly, they can tell me my mother is a goat licking arse jiggler, threaten me, yell, and do their best to make mayhem on my eardrums and it won’t even blip on my radar. It’s just tv. Probably an awful attitude to have, but seriously, television is not open heart surgery that is required now or you will expire. Read a book, take a walk, call your friends or family, play solitaire. Go get your jollies looking at pony porn. ANYTHING is acceptable (save for putting your spouse in a blender). Just please keep in mind, your tv is not your life.

Enough of that soapbox, though. The point of this post is to say I am letting the promotion problem go and looking forward, cause it’s the only way to look.

Fuck the man. Right in his ear.

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