Well, I seem to have mislaid my job...
which suits me, cause I just mislaid my apartment too. And my cats. So I'm like a free creature; no utility bills, no rent to pay, no cats to feed [just cats to visit], all I need crammed into the tiny teeny 2-door Honda. It feels like flying to France with no cell phone and that one huge suitcase.
It seems that I'll be back to being a barista and a waitress/pizza girl, both of which pay better, include better co-workers, and are run by competent bosses; heaven forfend! My family may cry, but I'm sure I'll survive; if nothing else, I'll be well caffeinated.
I'd be angry; but I just can't care about the worst work environment I've ever experienced; I've never worked so much, so hard, gotten so ill, so many times, from overwork and stress job related. Done, with that. Rather done; I'll miss my coworkers, but I hang out with them after work all the time anyway now, and they're a bit hip as to why I quit. As in, they might still think I'm crazy, but they don't mind.
It does bother me that someone wasted energy and karma making me out to be a raging bitch; though I do have that capacity, I was never like that at work. As B. said, "Don't worry about it; karma rebounds three-fold" so therefore his lies [eternal!] and snitty catty-ness and backstabbiness will be returned to him, many times over.
"Smile pretty and watch your back" Ani says, and it remains true; I'd like to trust coworkers, friends, people I like to have a beer with; but at the end of the say we're selfish, self-promoting bastards who look our for ourselves first and everyone else last. Bless our hearts.
Scott and Chris, my family and Angela, all get points and shout outs for helping the moving process; apparently I'm allowed to hobo it out at Angela's [sweet!]. No shout outs to the current tenants of my future house, who won't bloody move out so that I can move in.
I need to find a new hook up for Three Kings hookah coals; the shit they sell at the head shop on the same block as my old place just isn't cutting it. [They're from H0lland!]
Mirah's in town next Wednesday and I have my ticket -- but it is up for grabs; because apparently they need ushers. Score. Who's coming to see Mirah with me? The Delicious and Laura Veirs are opening for her.
It seems that I'll be back to being a barista and a waitress/pizza girl, both of which pay better, include better co-workers, and are run by competent bosses; heaven forfend! My family may cry, but I'm sure I'll survive; if nothing else, I'll be well caffeinated.
I'd be angry; but I just can't care about the worst work environment I've ever experienced; I've never worked so much, so hard, gotten so ill, so many times, from overwork and stress job related. Done, with that. Rather done; I'll miss my coworkers, but I hang out with them after work all the time anyway now, and they're a bit hip as to why I quit. As in, they might still think I'm crazy, but they don't mind.
It does bother me that someone wasted energy and karma making me out to be a raging bitch; though I do have that capacity, I was never like that at work. As B. said, "Don't worry about it; karma rebounds three-fold" so therefore his lies [eternal!] and snitty catty-ness and backstabbiness will be returned to him, many times over.
"Smile pretty and watch your back" Ani says, and it remains true; I'd like to trust coworkers, friends, people I like to have a beer with; but at the end of the say we're selfish, self-promoting bastards who look our for ourselves first and everyone else last. Bless our hearts.
Scott and Chris, my family and Angela, all get points and shout outs for helping the moving process; apparently I'm allowed to hobo it out at Angela's [sweet!]. No shout outs to the current tenants of my future house, who won't bloody move out so that I can move in.
I need to find a new hook up for Three Kings hookah coals; the shit they sell at the head shop on the same block as my old place just isn't cutting it. [They're from H0lland!]
Mirah's in town next Wednesday and I have my ticket -- but it is up for grabs; because apparently they need ushers. Score. Who's coming to see Mirah with me? The Delicious and Laura Veirs are opening for her.
posted by Kari Stevenson @ 7:27 AM
2 Comments:
At 4:13 PM,
LexBrett said…
Once again, it's obvious why your memoirs will be more compelling than mine. (Whoever publishes your autobiography will make a fortune.)
At 12:12 PM,
Kari Stevenson said…
You don't have half the compelling -- suffering in the workplace. Since you generate your own workplace most of the time, and spend as little time as possible in it, it makes sense.
I still think you should go to masseusse school or Braille-computer-guy school. Those would make great memoirs.
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