Wednesday, February 10, 2016
Fight, Fight....Don't Give Up the Fight!
I know a lot of people say what I'm about to say. In fact, I can guarantee that everyone has said or will say what I'm about to say at least once in their lifetime. I HATE MY JOB! I hate the shitty pay I make, I hate the shitty hours I work, I hate the shitty clients I cater to, and most importantly I hate that I have to pretend that I care. I don't. I don't care one bit. In fact, as my tax return states-I am now paying money to keep this shitty job. Now, before you get all up in arms about what it is I do-relax. I'm not doing anything of any substance. I take money from low income folks looking for a quick fix.
I answer phones for a psychic line.
I'm not a psychic myself. Dear God, no. If I were, I'd have no clients because what I've learned from this job is women who rely on psychics are some of the most awful human beings on the planet. They're broke. They're needy. They're mean. And, most importantly they think that their fucking issue about the guy who doesn't want them is what truly matters.
"Newsflash!!!! You bat-shit crazy twats-that pit in your stomach is your intuition and it's telling you...HE DOESN'T WANT YOU!!!!!! But sure, spend your rent money to be told once more or maybe not be told once more...who knows...because you keep fucking calling and nothing has changed!!!!"
These women will spend their last dime on a reading and I have to just grin and bare it. Holding onto to the illusion that this poorly paid job is worth keeping. When all I really want to say is, "Lady, you don't need a psychic reading. You need a psychiatrist!"
And don't even get me started on the ones who think that this is a free service. Oh yes, they are out there. They put their readings on a tab and pay later and I have to grin and bare it...when all I really want to say is, "If you don't have the fucking money for a fucking psychic reading then don't get one!!!" I mean, am I coming into your place of employment asking for something for nothing? Better yet how about this-how 'bout a little tact. Let's say you put one reading on a tab and you leave it at that. No? You want to call three times and put all those readings on a tab? Sure, why not? I mean, we don't need to pay our bills or anything. As long as you-you bat-shit crazy twat-get your reading!
This isn't me. I'm not this angry. I'm not this mean. I'm not this easily irritated....but every time the phone rings, I want to cringe. It's like nails on a chalkboard. I want to scream because I recognize the phone numbers. I want to yell at these women and call them out! I want to jump through the phone and tell them to get a fucking grip on life and if they can't then go seek professional help or just off yourself so when the apocalypse happens, the rest of us won't have to carry around the dead weight.
What a joke. I mean really. I make peanuts to deal with crazy and I hate it. Truthfully, if it wasn't for my second job, I wouldn't be able to live. This job doesn't even cover the rent, let alone can be depended upon as a reliable source or income..so why am I keeping it? Very good question.
All I want to do is create things. I want to write and get paid for it. I want to make art and work in my garden. I want to make a living doing that. I don't need to be rich. I just want to be comfortable....but then again doesn't everyone else?
A few years ago, I made a vision board. Every mock cut out stood for something and I can't give up on that something. It's been the only thing motivating me thus far and I will be damned if I give up now. I know what I'm doing isn't it. I know this hostile attitude isn't a trait I admire and I know I have to get out of this pool before I drowned myself in forced decisions.
Goal for the year: to focus on and make a reality the things I really want in life. Starting now.
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