Gulag must go!

So, I indirectly work for Pfizer. You don't know this. It means I indirectly work for Praxis. This means I directly work at the gulag. The gulag is a stress-midden of bitchy older women and younger women who joy in making part-timers' lives hell.

I work part time at the gulag. I am also indispensible; the only person capable of translating French. We're doing advertising in Quebec, so the frenchies, they call. I don't mind the work. I do mind the drama, the bullshit, the lack of communication, the complete and total disrespect, and the work environment from hell.

I think I work like 5 hours a week there [down from 15-30 before]. The pay is 10 bucks an hour now, otherwise I would have quit ages ago. Last week they fired and re-hired me in about 48 hours. That's the kind of job; i.e. they decided they were sick of me, fired me, ditched my shit, then realized in the morning that even though gee, that was fun, that they didn't have anyone for the French advertising blitz starting Wednesday.

So I was rehired. I think I quit again tomorrow morning; I wish I was a person of poor enough character just to stop showing up and returning phone calls. I'd feel to guilty; I don't need them as a recc or a ref, so there's no real point in being nice except for karma purposes. I'll give my two weeks. Collect my check, and glare the whole time while showing up for work in my pajamas with vodka in my coffee mug.

Fuck this corporate bullshit. I'm much happier working for the Persian mafia, er, I mean Persia Market. At least there is like a Dilbert comic strip with gourmet international organic food that gives me an employee discount and pays me to talk about food with customers all.damn.day.long.

Sounds like a Lina-job, no?