Mi Piel

So... Just to bring you up to speed, dear reader, last Tuesday I flipped the man the rhetorical bird- after the longest 2 1/2 weeks of my life, I quit my job as a collections representative and went back to the job I've always loved.What had happened was (I am on my second shift today and am literally exhausted to the point where I can't think of another logical beginning to this story. Also, it makes me laugh.)- I was sick the Friday before- that awful kind of sick where you need to vomit, but some unholy force is keeping it inside you, so you can only stand over the throne, croaking miserably as you try to evoke the very same kind of gag reflex that causes you to almost-urp every time you brush your tongue. That makes you think to try to brush your tongue-you furiously jab the head of your toothbrush in the general vicinity of your tonsils- still nothing, and now your tonsils hurt. I spent most of the day dashing to the restroom in between calls like an expectant father, praying to the powers that be that the contents of my stomach would show themselves so I could give it the ol' "welcome to the world" butt slap and send it on it's journey to the sea. Granted, Friday wasn't the most efficient day I've ever had, but I thought announcing repeatedly that I was going to hurl in an unnecessarily loud voice would cover my bases- however, I neglected to factor into my calculations the multiplication of the boorishness of my manager, and divide their patience for my sick day shenanigans by the amount of times CIC asked me where I was going. Math has never been my strong suit. At any rate, on Monday morning CIC asked me to 'step into his office', which was code for 'step into the boss's office which I have commandeered in his absence'.

CIC: Do you know why I've asked you here?

Me: (Because you are trying to get me into a secluded place and cloroform me so you can harvest my organs?) No.

CIC: Weeeeeelll... *taps fingers annoyingly on desk* It's about your performance. You were only on the phone for 3 hours Friday. You were supposed to be on the phone for four.

Me: Yeah, I'm sorry - I was pretty sick on Friday. I think I may have mentioned that.

CIC: That's neither here nor there. *spouts a bunch of stuff that I wasn't really paying attention to* If your performance doesn't improve, we're going to stop wasting your time.

Me: Uhh.... alright.

cut to Tuesday - CIC asks me to violate my personal policy on not cursing at strangers who have done literally nothing to offend me. I refuse. I go to lunch, tell my husband what has transpired, and determine never to set foot in that building as an employee again.

I'm back waitressing at my old job, and I'm happier than ever. Money's even been good! I learned that being happy at the job you're at is a heck of a lot more important than a couple dollars more an hour.

*sigh*.


Lesson learned, world.