Ayn Rand can eat her heart out
about three weeks ago i fractured by thumb practicing
brazilian jiu jitsu. a week after i was under full
anesthesia getting surgery (pins and such) to put me all
back together. the following monday i was back at work.
how you like that work ethic?
well one of the girls i work with is a partner with me on
this project. the problem is that she is a "go-getter"
which is fucking annoying. thanks to my injury i did not
have the time to even start on my part of the project, yet,
when i returned on monday i noticed that, not only had she
scheduled a meeting with our boss for 10 am, but it was the
third such meeting (as my inbox alerted me that i had missed
the previous two).
for some reason that really pissed me off. so i was sitting
there like a fucking jackass at 10 am trying not to puke
(anesthesia lingers) while this brainiac spouts out question
after kiss ass question.
as if that wasn't enough the vp of hr wanted a meeting with
me to discuss why we couldn't have a "virtual signature" for
now a quick sidenote on VPs. if you've ever watched
american psycho you know the joke that everyone seems to be
a fucking vp, the only thing is that its fucking true. the
company i work at has three (3!!!) vps of merchandising.
and i swear to god every-fucking-body is a vp of something.
so anyways. there i was in a meeting with vp asshole and i
swear he was hell-bent on using every buzz word and sports
analogy in the book.
"look, i don't think that you and i are on the same team on
setting up this framework. i want to be proactive and
converge towards the goalline."
this is seriously how this faggot talks. i was about to use
my own sports analogy saying, "if you don't shut the fuck up
i am going to break your fucking knee cap in a leg-lock,
with or without a cast."
then i puked. well i made it to the bathroom. but a
meeting trying to tell a moron that we need a signature
rather than a simple mouse click did me in. so there i was
head in toilet that nasty cold sweat you get from having
puked dampening my shirt. with head hanging on the rim i
flushed. big mistake. it was one of the "strong" toilets
and it blasted half of my vomit back into my face. as i sat
there thinking, "you have got to be fucking kidding me," i
decided that i was going to schedule a meeting of my own.
and by 3 pm that afternoon i had finished my portion of the
project and just shamed that damn over-achiever. of course
i had to puke again afterwards but it was quite productive
so now i'm moving. and i'm so fucking glad, fuck the place
we're at now. you know for a while i didn't want to move.
the hassle of packing and literally moving and changing
address and all that shit seemed too great. you see, my dad
says that people are afraid of change, but i don't think
that's necessarily true. i think they are just too lazy and
complacent and would rather suffer a mildly irritating
situation than change. i mean shit that was my reason. but
one thing you need is to believe shit will get better
through change, i know its corny but that's the only way you
can motivate yourself.