Post by Deadpool on Jan 1, 2010 23:03:34 GMT -5
Okay, so let's recap. I basically uprooted and hauled ass.
Look, it's not rocket science. I've had to sit around for thirty years listening to the tales of others having all these grand adventures while I sat around like a hobbit in a fucking hole and coming to everyone else's rescue. One day, I checked my closet and decided to clean it out. There were no superhero costumes, I wasn't Bruce Wayne and none of my weapons were as cool as The Punisher's and Superman isn't one of my titles so, guess what? No more "coming to the rescue" so to speak.
Frankly, I just got tired of helping others out to the point of my own detriment. I gave my last at times and the return on that investment was practically nada. You can only imagine the intense frustration at that. Imagine being thirty years old and realize that all you've done with your life is rescue others and all you have to show for it is a string of busted relationships, friends that only come around when they need something you have, a job that thinks you're so great that they'll promote everyone around you and a village full of idiots that would be just as happy seeing you crucified inverse and eviscerated to boot.
So, no red cape, nothing to really show for the time and effort you've put in. Fuck it all...go for broke and haul ass and never, ever, ever look back.
I'm not getting younger and I'm damn sure not getting any rescuing done to me so I hauled ass here to Night City. I settled into a place where no one knows me and no one really gives a shit. I'm not trying to save this city. I'm not trying to save the people in it. Fair trade.
First order of business was obviously to get a job. Honestly, had I known that it would turn into what it has, I probably would have taken another fucking line of work.
So where did it all end up? Right back where I fucking started. I've got this job that seems to think that I should eat, breathe, live, sleep and shit it 24/7/365. Negative. Today, it was pointed out to me (for the second time in two weeks no less) that I'm the "only one" that can do what I do.
I'm beginning to think that that's the problem. I've always been taught to do the right thing, even when it's not convenient. I know I've done it. Last night, I turned away drink after drink with the thought process that, should I refrain, I won't feel like shit. I wouldn't have a ton of lead in my ass that I'd have to drag around with me all day. I felt great about the day...New Year's Day. I felt awesome, indestructible and that I could accomplish anything. Nevermind the fact that I was scheduled off early today, though it helped. I was armed and ready to face my day. I had my trusty Swiss Army Knives with me.
Come getcha some, motherfuckers...
I fired up the cruiser and flew to work. I wanted to get there early. Even with the fucking around in getting shit done, I got done early enough to open our doors a whopping ten minutes ahead of schedule. I'd left lunch at home. Fuck it, I'd eat when I got back home. I tore down five boxes and began a little cleaning project, ripping into it like a rabid wolverine. At that point, I was a machine and I was unstoppable. That's when I encountered roadblock numero uno.
Apparently, this dude who was a prime candidate for the Bravo Network came in. He'd lost his phone at another shop and his ridiculous request began. A phone that would instantly come with 140 minutes free. Then, this dude did the one thing I cannot fucking stand. No matter what answers I gave, his nose kept turning up at me.
Okay, I may not be fucking rich and, if I were, I probably wouldn't be working in this bullshit job. I'd be the one rich dude in your neighborhood you wouldn't like because I'd tell you exactly what I thought of you. I felt my fist curling up and tightening. Something about a turned up nose just screams "Hey....AIM HERE AND FIRE WHEN READY!"
Still, another voice in my head screamed, "DUDE! PLEASE TURN YOUR NOSE BACK DOWN!" Finally, after much in the way of talk, he left.
Lesson 1: If you ever lose your phone....make sure it's insured through your carrier. Claim it and you'll get a new one. Promise.
The second one came in and asked if we had a certain GPS unit in stock. Of course we do and it's awesome! I went on my rant about what it could do and why it was superior to others (the very reasons I snagged one on Black Friday) and what I recommended with it. I thought for sure my day was about to turn around until I showed it to him and then he dropped the bomb...he'd already ordered one and oh how he wished he'd just checked us out first. Little by little, they filed in and beat my resolve until finally, I got a text message. My relief would not be coming today. I was in this one for the long haul.
"You've gotta be fucking kidding me," I said when I called back. No way this was a simple text message thing. I've sacrificed too much in this place. My time off is something I've got coming. I can usually suffer a bit of inconvenience but this was too much.
Let's go down the laundry list of sacrifices I've made:
1. No podcasting or show because my schedule is never going to be anywhere near regular
2. Got a significant other who's not feeling very happy. Yanno, losing parents to cancer does that to you
3. No longer have a home life because, by the time I get home, I've got nothing left in the tank.
4. Lotsa frustration and nearly zero outlet.
I think I'll stop there. I'd let it be known that I was out at three. Non-negotiable. Pop's not doing too well these days and the plan was that I was going to his place to walk his dog (which I do happily because he's a generally warm and friendly pup who deserves a good long walk as much as I do) and help him take care of things he can't do himself. Needless to day, no one gave a fuck about any of that because I'm "the only one" who can do it.
Okay...that's it.
I've officially turned down any promotion. I'm never getting a pay raise if I don't get promoted and I'm also making my position known that this has already gone over the line. You don't continuously drive a car on it's spare tire, right?
If I'm the only one that means I'm irreplaceable and if I'm irreplaceable, I have total control. If that assumption is true, then it's time I take the velvet glove off of this iron fist.
Promotion would only prove disasterous. I have no home life as it is. Apparently, this place and I don't share the same belief system. See, I believe that my energy is worth something. The job seems to think that my best efforts aren't worth what I think they're worth. Something is wrong here. If I'm so irreplaceable, shouldn't I be kept happy? I mean, if I'm kept happy then I'll continue production. If not, I'll slap an embargo over the whole works and they can put that hollow platitude to rest once and for all time. If it's more than just a hollow platitude, then perhaps it's time to renegotiate the terms and conditions of my continued production.
Until then, I'm looking elsewhere. Time to hang up the "potential." The bills don't give a fuck whether I'm having a bad month of not, they only want one thing...the sign of the energy transfer and apparently, my job's getting their overunity out of me. I think it's high time the overunity came into my favor.
Look, it's not rocket science. I've had to sit around for thirty years listening to the tales of others having all these grand adventures while I sat around like a hobbit in a fucking hole and coming to everyone else's rescue. One day, I checked my closet and decided to clean it out. There were no superhero costumes, I wasn't Bruce Wayne and none of my weapons were as cool as The Punisher's and Superman isn't one of my titles so, guess what? No more "coming to the rescue" so to speak.
Frankly, I just got tired of helping others out to the point of my own detriment. I gave my last at times and the return on that investment was practically nada. You can only imagine the intense frustration at that. Imagine being thirty years old and realize that all you've done with your life is rescue others and all you have to show for it is a string of busted relationships, friends that only come around when they need something you have, a job that thinks you're so great that they'll promote everyone around you and a village full of idiots that would be just as happy seeing you crucified inverse and eviscerated to boot.
So, no red cape, nothing to really show for the time and effort you've put in. Fuck it all...go for broke and haul ass and never, ever, ever look back.
I'm not getting younger and I'm damn sure not getting any rescuing done to me so I hauled ass here to Night City. I settled into a place where no one knows me and no one really gives a shit. I'm not trying to save this city. I'm not trying to save the people in it. Fair trade.
First order of business was obviously to get a job. Honestly, had I known that it would turn into what it has, I probably would have taken another fucking line of work.
So where did it all end up? Right back where I fucking started. I've got this job that seems to think that I should eat, breathe, live, sleep and shit it 24/7/365. Negative. Today, it was pointed out to me (for the second time in two weeks no less) that I'm the "only one" that can do what I do.
I'm beginning to think that that's the problem. I've always been taught to do the right thing, even when it's not convenient. I know I've done it. Last night, I turned away drink after drink with the thought process that, should I refrain, I won't feel like shit. I wouldn't have a ton of lead in my ass that I'd have to drag around with me all day. I felt great about the day...New Year's Day. I felt awesome, indestructible and that I could accomplish anything. Nevermind the fact that I was scheduled off early today, though it helped. I was armed and ready to face my day. I had my trusty Swiss Army Knives with me.
Come getcha some, motherfuckers...
I fired up the cruiser and flew to work. I wanted to get there early. Even with the fucking around in getting shit done, I got done early enough to open our doors a whopping ten minutes ahead of schedule. I'd left lunch at home. Fuck it, I'd eat when I got back home. I tore down five boxes and began a little cleaning project, ripping into it like a rabid wolverine. At that point, I was a machine and I was unstoppable. That's when I encountered roadblock numero uno.
Apparently, this dude who was a prime candidate for the Bravo Network came in. He'd lost his phone at another shop and his ridiculous request began. A phone that would instantly come with 140 minutes free. Then, this dude did the one thing I cannot fucking stand. No matter what answers I gave, his nose kept turning up at me.
Okay, I may not be fucking rich and, if I were, I probably wouldn't be working in this bullshit job. I'd be the one rich dude in your neighborhood you wouldn't like because I'd tell you exactly what I thought of you. I felt my fist curling up and tightening. Something about a turned up nose just screams "Hey....AIM HERE AND FIRE WHEN READY!"
Still, another voice in my head screamed, "DUDE! PLEASE TURN YOUR NOSE BACK DOWN!" Finally, after much in the way of talk, he left.
Lesson 1: If you ever lose your phone....make sure it's insured through your carrier. Claim it and you'll get a new one. Promise.
The second one came in and asked if we had a certain GPS unit in stock. Of course we do and it's awesome! I went on my rant about what it could do and why it was superior to others (the very reasons I snagged one on Black Friday) and what I recommended with it. I thought for sure my day was about to turn around until I showed it to him and then he dropped the bomb...he'd already ordered one and oh how he wished he'd just checked us out first. Little by little, they filed in and beat my resolve until finally, I got a text message. My relief would not be coming today. I was in this one for the long haul.
"You've gotta be fucking kidding me," I said when I called back. No way this was a simple text message thing. I've sacrificed too much in this place. My time off is something I've got coming. I can usually suffer a bit of inconvenience but this was too much.
Let's go down the laundry list of sacrifices I've made:
1. No podcasting or show because my schedule is never going to be anywhere near regular
2. Got a significant other who's not feeling very happy. Yanno, losing parents to cancer does that to you
3. No longer have a home life because, by the time I get home, I've got nothing left in the tank.
4. Lotsa frustration and nearly zero outlet.
I think I'll stop there. I'd let it be known that I was out at three. Non-negotiable. Pop's not doing too well these days and the plan was that I was going to his place to walk his dog (which I do happily because he's a generally warm and friendly pup who deserves a good long walk as much as I do) and help him take care of things he can't do himself. Needless to day, no one gave a fuck about any of that because I'm "the only one" who can do it.
Okay...that's it.
I've officially turned down any promotion. I'm never getting a pay raise if I don't get promoted and I'm also making my position known that this has already gone over the line. You don't continuously drive a car on it's spare tire, right?
If I'm the only one that means I'm irreplaceable and if I'm irreplaceable, I have total control. If that assumption is true, then it's time I take the velvet glove off of this iron fist.
Promotion would only prove disasterous. I have no home life as it is. Apparently, this place and I don't share the same belief system. See, I believe that my energy is worth something. The job seems to think that my best efforts aren't worth what I think they're worth. Something is wrong here. If I'm so irreplaceable, shouldn't I be kept happy? I mean, if I'm kept happy then I'll continue production. If not, I'll slap an embargo over the whole works and they can put that hollow platitude to rest once and for all time. If it's more than just a hollow platitude, then perhaps it's time to renegotiate the terms and conditions of my continued production.
Until then, I'm looking elsewhere. Time to hang up the "potential." The bills don't give a fuck whether I'm having a bad month of not, they only want one thing...the sign of the energy transfer and apparently, my job's getting their overunity out of me. I think it's high time the overunity came into my favor.