Hot as friggin Hades
My office is usually Arctic or sweltering. Today it is on the latter end of the thermometer. I can’t fucking concentrate to save my life, not to mention that I wore a heavy sweater because it’s usually so damn cold here.
In good news, I don’t have to work during Halloween weekend. The CEO will take photos. You’d think he’d make Town Crier take them. Oh well.
I got a good, subtle zinger in to TC today. I’m sure she never even realizes how I manage to use her own words against her at every opportunity.
Angie and I were chatting about winning the lottery and how many people outright quit their jobs as soon as they learn of a financial windfall. I wouldn’t quit here — at least, not right away. I love my team and my job functions too much. But I would go to part-time, and I would definitely work on opening my own side business(es). And I would definitely give a royal “fuck off” to those who deserve it most, when they deserve it. None of this bottling it up or writing politically correct e-mails to convey yet disguise my frustration.
Like Santa, I would like to start making a list of people I’d like to tell to go to hell. I’d even like to write the script for what I would say. My friend Chris always wanted to write a book on fantastic exits from the workplace. Mine would probably include a Zambelli fireworks display and lip prints tattooed to my ass. In fact, I’d start my own company and hire the truly talented people with whom I’ve worked over the years — nothing would screw old employers worse than having an army of their minions go on to greater success (and more enjoyable environments) together without the employer.
I don’t mean to be so hard on the Veggie Patch today. It’s really some of the people who are frosting my flakes today, and of them, most are not in upper management. Surprisingly. 🙂 I just think of the pay scale and wonder why I work so much harder for less money than some of these losers are taking home.