Wednesday, January 16, 2008

Good Golly!

There are several things that I've considered blogging about which would be a good use of both my time (as a writer examining these things and putting organising them into readable order) and yours (as readers of such fascinating and important analyses). These topics have included, but are not limited to: my take on the presidential primary race, a review type thing of the Masterpiece Theater airing of Persuasion last Sunday, and/or a few observations about the poetry of William Carlos Williams.

I'm not going to blog about any of those. Why not? Because I am at work at job#1, or, as I like to call it, death. Being here is anti-stimulating. I start writing about something worth wile and within the first paragraph I run out of steam, sigh, and stare out of the window with a queasy feeling in my stomach. So it seems I am stuck with a subject I'm sure you're all tired of reading about. I am completely capable of endlessly complaining about my job.

I agree with most of you who say "so quit." And I will, soon. Yesterday I applied for a job at the library (which I may not actually be allowed to have, as my mother works there in a fairly high up position. She says that it should be ok though, as long as she's not my direct supervisor). Regardless of what might happen with that, I'm going to give my two weeks notice next week. I want to quit on a pay day so that my last day will be on a pay day. That way I can walk away from this place with money in my pocket and never look back.

In the mean time, I feel horribly guilty about quitting this time of year. I know the admin department is swamped what with all the getting ready for taxes stuff. I tried to get next Friday (25th) off for the ULX and was told that they absolutely could not spare anyone to cover the front desk. Incidentally, that will be the day I give notice. The point is, they're really busy down there (heaven forbid they let me do something to help out, I'm not at all incompetent, which I would think they would know by now). Adding to their plate the task of finding a new receptionist certainly isn't going to help them any.

I wouldn't care, but it's my job that I hate, not the company or anyone I work with (with one exception). I'd rather not leave under a cloud of resentment. However, I've become so listless about my job, that I have very little motivation to do it well. One would think that it would be impossible to mess up my job. What do I do? I answer the phones, I sort the mail, I receive packages.... what is there to mess up? Somehow I am finding little things to not do (perhaps I need to take back my previous statement about being competent. I'm certainly not making a good case for myself right now) and I can see that I'm sabotaging myself, but I absolutely Do Not Care. Shit, if I get fired, I don't have to work those last two weeks. I don't want to get fired, of course, but it certainly wouldn't be the end of the world.

7 comments:

veganaron said...

I KNOW THOSE FEELINGS!!!! They make me warm inside... :D That or I've had too much coffee today.

Cassie the Great said...

I think it's the coffee, 'cause those feelings are not warm fuzzies. Unless you're feeling warm inside ina gloating sort of "ha-ha-you-have-those-feelings-and-I-don't" way. If that's the case, you=asshat

Anonymous said...

You could try your own Friday Dance Party in the outer office. You would either begin enjoying your time at your job, or it would soon end. One or the other.

-Rusty

Cassie the Great said...

Brilliant Rusty! That's the best idea ever! I'm pretty sure I need to go get a disco ball and a sick sound system to really make it a proper dance party. All paid for by the company, of course.

veganaron said...

No I think that they make me feel warm in side like heart burn...

Cassie the Great said...

Well, you are not invited to my dance party.

veganaron said...

Hay then it an't really a dance party. ;)