• Minimum wage

    by  • June 26, 2011 • * Safe for Work *, Co-Worker • 0 Comments

    Hey Boss. Why the hell are you in charge?

    Every morning I get up early to get to work at that early time I’m scheduled to. There is never anything on the radio but talk. Talk talk talk. And the speed limit is 50, not 65. Your truck is so gaudy that anyone can recognize it as yours. Please don’t cut people off like that.

    I get to the office and wash my face in the bathroom, trying to make myself look cleaner than I am. My coworker is there, being cheerful and bright. I think she likes this better than I do because you let her leave early and she gets paid a little more than me because she gets to sit at a computer. I get to my desk and see all the brainless, tedious things you put there while I wasn’t at work.

    “Shred these important documents, I couldn’t take my lazy ass to the shredder to do it myself. Make letters for these people. Idk what they want, just send what you think they need. Find all that important information I lost. Too busy playing Angry Birds.” Every day. Well, maybe I’m exaggerating with the Angry Birds part, but you’re the only twit in the office walking around with his iPhone. We could all tell that you’re not doing business on it. We hear the sound effects, for pete’s sake.

    Then you make uncomfortable sexually charged remarks at the pretty secretary. I’m postive she doesn’t want a spanking from you. What the hell.

    And THEN you sit in your office and tweet and FB and download more Kanye West songs while our printers break down and the mailing gets backed up and I can no longer take your place for all these appointments you can obviously make. It makes me wanna tip over chairs and throw printers and beat fax machines with baseball bats.

    I don’t get how you can have the highest position in this department. Those monkeys from The Jungle Book can run this better than you can. Your laziness is upsetting and I am truly happy I’m only part time but I can’t wait for tomorrow. I’m gonna stay in the file room and dance and whistle and get work done without you around asking me to find your dinner plans or papers for your lectures or whatever it is that’s always lost in your office.

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