First Off

Yeah, so I got a fucking job. One I might be able to keep indefinitely. Ya know, if I can shake the whole shooting myself in the goddamn foot thing.
See, for every job I've ever had, I've fucked it up some how. I've blamed it on other people, mostly. Or my interactions with other people. Namely, management.
There are some cases where I don't feel so bad about this (7-11, ferinstance). There are some cases where I'm sure it wasn't my fault (Toys 'R' Us). And there's at least one where it wasn't so bad, but I can't help but feel it was my fuckup (Stevita).
And now, I've got a job I love. I love the people. I love the work. Okay, it's work, and when I'm there, I wanna leave. But I don't feel worthless, I don't feel like I'm doing shit. I feel like I'm actually earning my money.
Except, I'm not. At least, that's what I'm being led to believe, and I think they're right. They say I slack too much, that I'm not keeping myself busy enough, doing the things that I need to get done. Which I swear I am, but then I turn around after staring off into space for thirty seconds, and there's a manager or someone giving me the eye.
So for now, I'm happily employed, and paying my bills. I pray I'm not in any real danger, and that this is all part of being the new guy.
Because, shit, if I can't keep this job, I'm going to have to turn to a life of crime.

Selah,
--Ian

posted by Ian Quinn  : 3/11/2002 02:45:00 AM 0 comments