Fabamy's Blog

Crazy life of a CenPho comedian & socialite

Dying inside…slowly and painfully. August 13, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — fabamy @ 3:45 pm

I hate my job.  I HATE MY JOB.  I’ve got a boss who knows nothing about accountability.  I had to buy my own laptop, since I wasn’t provided one.  I have to read from a script.  All.  Day.  Long.  I’m not allowed to stray from it, though those around me do it constantly.  Yesterday, out of 12 in my department, 6 were out.  One kid hasn’t worked a 40-hour week in three months.  His excuses are ridiculous, but my boss doesn’t have the spine to hold him accountable.  He sells a lot, but many of them come back, which takes money away from my boss, too.

Yes, I applied for and interviewed for this job.  I’ve been here for a year and a half.  I’m burned-out.  I like who I work with, but in sales, if you don’t have a GREAT leader, it’s harder to succeed.  Like a salmon swimming upstream.

I look at myself, who I am, my personality and East Coast work ethic and see shit around me and wonder how people can even look themselves in the mirror.  I’m worth way more than this.  I don’t know WHAT I want to do, but I know that I need to get out of this position.  I’ve interviewed for a couple other positions here, but wasn’t hired.  It’s never happened that someone’s been transferred out of my department.  It’s like a vacuum.

When other departments have holidays off, we’re still working.  We can’t talk to our co-workers who sit 2 feet away.  It’s like the 1950s or something.  It’s really spooky, actually.

So, I need to make some decisions.  Do I continue to stay, even though I’m miserable and often cry when I leave at the end of the day?  I have job security, but is it worth misery?

I want to go back to school for my Master’s, but that’s not something I can afford.  It’s harder to get financial aid, because, apparently, a Master’s isn’t as important as a Bachelor’s.  WTF???

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One Response to “Dying inside…slowly and painfully.”

  1. Tina Says:

    This is exactly how I felt at … the old place we used to work. Miserable is no way to spend 8 hours a day.


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