| Current mood: | irritated |
| Current music: | HECATE ENTHRONED - Promeathea-Thy Darkest Mask Of Surreality |
I leave for work in less then two hours and dreading every minute closer to that time. The managers decided to put me on the ‘Ink Depot’ register without teaching me a thing about ink and toners. I get hundreds of questions a day about ink, printers, fax machines, toners etc. and I don’t know a damn thing these people want to know. They gave the dimwitted lady the job I was told I would get (backroom job D&D, claims). I'm hoping they will give me a chance at it and see that I’m more proficient, meticulous and faster at that type of work. If they keep me on the registers, I’m going to go look for another job secluded from customers, hopefully Capital One’s mailroom.
A customer that constantly talks to me offered me a job where he is working at some sort of mail office, he’s going to give me a card today, and I just have to worry about transportation. Although it’s not very far, it’s too far to walk. It’s amusing how many customers compliment me on my black nails, hair and make-up. I’m guessing for every ten customers I offend (since people seem to get offended by plain irrelevant things) every one customer compliments me. I completely dislike with the utmost intensity working with the public. Someone offered me $120 to make a 15-minute fetish video for them, perhaps selling myself would be worth the money, at least I get to be comfortable and not hide who I am with some hideous Office Depot shirt. I’ll have to think about this offer, what would you suggest?
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