Dear Future Employer

In my stenography class today we were talking about adjusting behaviors that won’t get you hired– namely drug use, because if you want to work in a Federal capacity you have to start watching what you put into your body 3-10 years before applying. Social media and internet use also came up: don’t post pictures of yourself boozing, partying, or being otherwise crazy or unreliable in appearance. Don’t use bad language. Don’t talk about politics. Hard stop. I didn’t sign up for anything that says I can’t have an opinion. That I can’t talk about that opinion. That I can’t be a vocal supporter for those being oppressed by the current regime. That I can’t speak up when I’m being oppressed. Hard. Fucking. Nope. It’s not right to ask anyone in this day and age to be impartial, period. Impartial in their work? Oh, yes. Sure. But that’s not the same damn thing. Guess what? I’m going to be gay

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Post-fuckit update

After my last post, I caved. I quit fighting myself and what I knew was the best thing for me, and I called and told them I wasn’t coming back. This was Monday night. One of my two favorite managers (and one of three good ones) answered, so of course I had to cry, but he just made sure he understood that I was not coming back and finishing out my two weeks, and agreed when I told him I’d pick up my check on Friday. I spent Tuesday doing minor transcription work (through TranscribeMe– expect a more detailed post on this later), and Wednesday was my birthday. I spent this going down to take care of some administrative stuff at my school (an hour away), then catching up with a friend I haven’t seen in months because I’m always too tired after work and too reclusive on my days off. Since then I’ve been feeling a little numb. I’ve

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On being the better person

In the midst of a deep internal struggle to try to figure out whether I really want to try to finish out my last few days of work, I reached out to a friend for some conversant advice, and — I guess predictably — got the typical “you’ll feel better being the better person.” Here’s the deal. No, I won’t. Two reasons: One, I am already the better person. Two, I have spent two and a half years suffering from trying to “feel better being the better person.” I will not feel better. I will feel worse. My boss is a liar. He is a coward. He is a manipulator. He is selfish. He is dishonest. He lacks integrity. I’m already better than him on my worst day. But it’s more than that. It’s the food handling station still not being cleaned properly after two and a half years. It’s the times I’ve tried to improve a bad situation or a

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Gratuitous update

I figured that I owe an update, whether necessary or not. It’s been a rough weekend. I made it back to work for my last full week, survived a day without incident, and left early yesterday because my boss was being an ass and fuck it. Minus money in the bank. Plus self confidence and sense of vindication. I’m paid to tolerate customers, not hostility from within my own company. Related to said “fuck it” attitude: my Bengal is in the hospital. He got very sick on Friday, had a vet visit, and had to go back immediately Saturday morning. I won’t see him again until tomorrow (fortune willing that he’s fine until tomorrow). I hate the idea of him sitting in the vet’s office in a cage alone and sick, even though I trust my vet implicitly and know that they check in as often as necessary, even on their day off. Even though he’s a pain in our

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Shopping with integrity: how not to be an ass

Okay, I get it. We all walk into a grocery store and our mind starts spiraling a thousand places at once, trying to remember our list (or looking down and checking our list), being distracted by all of the displays (specifically put there to distract you) or stopping to pick up something right inside the door. Then we look around the busy store and think, hey, I’ll just stick my cart right here while I browse the entire produce section. Then we leave our cart in the middle of the aisle just for a second to grab a sample. And so on. Well, guess what. From minute one, when you get your cart and stand in the middle of the cart corral wiping it off with the supplied sanitizing wipes, you’re probably in the way because you AREN’T FUCKING THINKING. People are stacking up behind you. The poor schmuck assigned to bring carts back to the corral is waiting not

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New goals, who dis?

So I gave my notice today. In case you’re wondering, I work for a popular grocery chain. The company is good. The store is a cesspit. The customers range from amazing to disgusting pieces of sexist slime not good enough to wipe off the bottom of a shoe. My boss is a snake. The holidays were hell. And come to find out, I’m really just fucking done. I don’t have another job lined up. I came to the decision after several very painful months that if I continue in retail, it will destroy my mental health. My schooling for Court Reporting won’t start paying off for about another year, and financial aid isn’t going to cover me putting gas in my car or food in my mouth. I’m not 100% sure what I’m going to do here, but I am confident that whatever I do, it’ll be better for me than what I’m leaving. I thought that maybe for others

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