SarcasmoJones
Shared on Mon, 07/22/2013 - 16:10I had an epiphany at work today. I'm in a rut and hate everybody who works here because they are clones of people I have worked with at other places and already got sick of dealing with. Working in the shipping department means that I am the last line of defense against the innumerable stupid mistakes made by the folks who enter the orders, without having the luxury of a safety net for myself. Not that I need one: I'm just that fucking good. But it's not only the people that work here, it's also the folks that deliver and pick up. Half of these idiots want to infect me with their political ignorance, and the other half want to inform me of how hot it is in the warehouse. I want to deal these fuckers a death blow with some soul-crushing sarcasm, but times are tough and I need my job. Is it my destiny to quietly climb the corporate ladder while correcting the same stupid mistakes, silently ignoring political advice from toothless illiterates, and pretending that I didn't realize how fucking hot it was until some random redneck strolled up and was good enough to inform me? I want to bolt, I have to get out, but until I can get paid to write, I feel like my awareness of my situation only exacerbates my inability to diplomatically deal with it. Fuck these fucking fucks! Stupidity should be a terminal illness and I wish that my urine stream was strong enough to cut folks in half as it is the only death that befits them. I apologize for any insincere apologies I may have made earlier in week, you deserved the ugly truth and I deprived you of that. My bad. End rant.
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Comments
Submitted by NorthernPlato on Mon, 07/22/2013 - 18:25
My former boss had what I believe is an excellent life philosophy: "life is too short to deal with assholes".
He used it when hiring people, accepting clients, whatever. It's something I've adopted as well. My definition of "asshole" is likely much wider than most peoples: I include lazy people, indecisive people, mildly annoying people among the assholes in the world.
If it's any help, most writers work another job while writing. Steven Erikson wrote "Gardens on the Moon" during his lunches at a cafe over 10 years.
Keep at it, you're a great writer - not that you need someone to tell you that - and fuck the dillholes you'd rather run over with a forklift :D
Submitted by Oldschool 2o4f on Tue, 07/23/2013 - 10:00
My only fear Jones is one day I'll read about you attacking someone with a golf club. However, I look forward to the eloquent plea hearing...
Submitted by SarcasmoJones on Tue, 07/23/2013 - 11:07
Where are all these orders coming from? Who the fuck is playing golf in this heat? Oops..went off topic there, my bad. No Oldschool, that's not my style. I'm thinking about using the banding machine to band a co-workers arm to his head so when he runs off it looks like he's waving at everybody.
Submitted by Oldschool 2o4f on Tue, 07/23/2013 - 12:53
Can't you be happy cellophaning the toilet or something? Even supergluing the toilet seat? Hmm, I'm seeing a tendency here...
Submitted by SarcasmoJones on Tue, 07/23/2013 - 15:51
Were you in the toilet when you typed that?
Submitted by Oldschool 2o4f on Wed, 07/24/2013 - 08:43
Yeah, I had some paperwork to finish up...
Submitted by Habu06 on Tue, 07/23/2013 - 18:46
It sure is hot in here aint it?
Submitted by SarcasmoJones on Tue, 07/23/2013 - 20:17
Oh, thanks for telling me, Habu...I guess I can take this sweater off now. I was just fixing to ask someone if it was hot or cold in here.