I have become gluttonous for punishment. I stare at a job that spits on my standards and overlooks its own on its way to employee maltreatment. All I’m motivated to do now is to lie back and think of England; England is a hypothetical place, from my perspective, but this childish belief that something unknown is better than what’s perceived feels more enlightening than this Americanized idiosyncrasy.
After my boss throws me into a role where I have to fulfill two separate job descriptions in a shift for nearly two months, she then tells me yesterday that she schedules herself today “so you can drive.” She may as well have told me, “You’re having your cake and eating it, too, since you’re both driving and managing for maximum profit, and you’re doing them both better than two people collectively doing those jobs. So, I want to diversify (by the way, in ‘ignorant, small-town hick’ language, diversify literally means, ‘mess with integrity’). Let’s take away your ability to excel and replace it with incompetence; you have to respect the new system more than yourself, by the way.”
I hate being in a mental place where giving up is part of the plan. I hate looking at a place, literally, every single day and seeing that no one cares in such a way so that everyone looks like an expert in sandwich making; my only solace in that statement is that my boss is a woman. Putting my thoughts against women’s rights, though, to quell my animosity for this job is not a habit that I want to have. When I started, I cared about the well-being of this place, and I helped it get better, and sales figures visually grew. After everything got pear-shaped, progress has stopped, and numbers have been the same for the last two years.
Yesterday, I had a conversation with a couple of fellow compatriots from Playstation Universe, and we sought for a more positive outlook on our lives. Now that I’m back in my “life,” I want to be rid of it. The only reason that I’ve stayed at this damnable place is because I’m only staying in Marshall one more year and learning another job would throw off my education. It’s done it before, and my life here is bad enough.
One more year, and I’ll be done with this hell hole. My boss looks at the Misses yesterday and asked if we were staying in Marshall after school was finished. She replied, “No way are we staying in Marshall.” Boy, was our boss surprised. That’ll have to do for us until we’re finally able to be human again.