digitaldiscipline ◾ ◾ Just to clarify:

In case I have not yet made it abundantly clear:

It's astonishing how little I care about what happens at my office. Yes, it's making me a miserable, grouchy fuck, ruinging my attitude, making my skin break out, and causing my midsection to bloat.

I mean, really, if the boss wants to yell at me when his seminar falls flat on Tuesday because he didn't give anyone enough time to prepare [and then spent yesterday and today -out of the fucking office at an unrelated seminar- rather than contributing to getting shit done], that's fine, that's his prerogative as the boss.

I'll just take my paycheck for the 110 hours this pay period and find a new job. He can get a new minion and train 'em. I give up. I don't give a shit. I'm sick and tired of busting my ass for no money, no bennies, and only the vaguest comprehension of the shit I transmute into non-shit on a daily basis.

K got a first-hand taste of things last night, trying to decipher his illegible, semicoherent scrawlings.

I've just been made to feel like nine kinds of shithead by the local Coast Guard base because a meeting that was to be held today was cancelled several weeks ago, and they [apparently] hadn't been told. Look, I'm sorry, but I always call the week before to confirm that we -will- be coming. Did the fact that this month's confirmation hadn't occurred by the time people are normally walking in not alert you? Fine, yes, I'm sorry you made too much food for lunch, but I'm pretty damn sure I let everyone know not to show up today. ... thus, the reason nobody showed up today.

Anybody wanna hire me?