If you're a regular visitor to this site, you know I haven't written much at all in the last month or so. I was busy - off trying to be a productive member of society and shit. Turns out that was STUPID. After a little over a month at a job, I quit on Thursday. Now, you may be thinking that the title of the blog suggests a different outcome. Trust me, I would have been fired this week, and since I'm such a proactive person, I took the initiative and went ahead and packed my shit up. I even sent my letter of resignation via email from my phone while wrapped up in the blankets of my bed. I'm good like that. But don't worry, I learned a lot from my experience at Shawshank, and as usual you can count on me to share my wealth of knowledge. So without further ado, here are five ways to lose a job in thirty days:
1. The first ingredient is to take a lot of stuff up to work. This was a rookie move on my part, but for whatever reason I believed the rule just wouldn't apply to me in this case. I toted my Keurig up there, 19,000 little K-cups, three plants, lots of decorations, a fan, food, and of course the killer - the MINI-FRIDGE. That's what did me in. In the distance I heard what I now recognize as the sound of the Universe laughing it's ass off. At the time, I mistook the laughter as actual happiness for me. What a douche.
2. The second ingredient you must have to ensure your rightful place in the unemployment line is that you have to genuinely like all of your coworkers and they like you back. This should have, of course, been a red flag for me, as the Universe just isn't going to allow this kind of shit. Somehow that sort of harmony in the workplace throws something else off in China and causes tsunamis and possessed babies to be born. You have to harbor actual hate in your heart at the water cooler before the Universe is satisfied that you are exactly where you need to be.
3. Of course the third ingredient is money, and a lot of it. It's no fun for the Universe to toy with your life if you're only making minimum wage. Losing seven bucks an hour just doesn't have the desired amount of sting. You have to be in the best financial position you've ever been in before she pulls the rug out from under you. Those are the rules.
4. Being an overachiever can really be a detriment to a career, and best case scenario it'll piss off the wrong people. You can't just walk in a company where your boss isn't doing shit and start doing shit. It quickly becomes evident to the people who are doing shit that there's a weak link in the chain. The problem is that it's the guy who isn't doing shit that has all the influence and gives the big boss the best mouth hugs.
5. The fifth and most important ingredient is that the owner of the company must be a sociopath who'd apparently suffered a brain injury via pool cue to the temple. True story. But in order for it to all come together, he must work offsite so he truly has no fucking clue what's going on in his own company. It's only then that you get a call in your first week of employment and every week thereafter where you're cussed and screamed at by a seventy year old man throwing a two year old tantrum. This is a barrel of monkeys, let me tell ya. The last phone call of this nature came last Wednesday. It went something like this:
Sociopath: Why the fuck did you send those documents without my signature?
Me: I didn't...
Sociopath: Let me tell you why the fuck. Because you're fucking incompetent, that's why!
Sociopath: Let me make myself clear, if you can understand it. You're fu-cking in-com-pet-ent and should probably start looking for another fucking job!
Sociopath: Even a goddam simple dog can understand simple fucking commands like 'NO, DON'T DO THAT'...
Sociopath: I'm not signing this fucking shit! I'm sending it back! Click.
He's a warm and fuzzy guy, that one. So much so that my husband told me I wasn't allowed to go back there and that was fine with me.
When I first started, I thought my coworkers were mean when they actually made statements like "I wish he was dead" or "we're just waiting for him to die". Even after all the shit I put up with, I don't wish was dead. That's just wrong and not Christian.
When I get upset, I like to think about kittens to calm me down. In this case, the kittens are eating Mr. Sociopath after he suffers a terrible fall caused by a unicorn with dishonorable intentions. But he's not dead because I'm the boss of this fantasy so he never gets to die. And any fantasy with kittens or unicorns in it counts as Christian. Those are the rules.
Long story short, it was a big, fat, stupid waste of time and energy. Now here I sit, combing through Monster looking for the next big, fat, stupid waste of time and energy. And a waste of time and energy is OK with me, as long as it isn't run by a big, fat, stupid waste of space.