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Wednesday, July 03, 2013

drawing the line

It's been 8 days and 2 hours since my last post, which is exactly 17.6 times the average number of hours I spend at my thankless job every day. I know I complain about it on a regular basis but I get the niggling feeling that something's got to be done.

The proverbial stuff violently hit the fan when I took a day's leave on Friday 14 June. Rabid clients demanded my flesh but I was absent and they viciously clawed at those who were available. 

I can't even take two minutes to use the toilet without someone going into nuclear meltdown because I am just not there. Ever spoke to a client while on the loo?

On 22 June (a Saturday which was not my scheduled turn to work, by gentleman's agreement) I was summoned to a meeting with both bosses and presented with two choices: I could simply allow myself to be fired or I could pull up my socks and write a letter to explain why I am such an unhappy camper at work. Given the bills due every month, the latter option was the slightest bit more enticing and I spent much of the next day pouring out my heart in a sincere letter listing my grievances.

Said letter was not received in the spirit in which I wrote it and the promised session to discuss its contents never materialised. In short, that means I still navigate through murky waters daily, desperately hoping to avoid damaging explosions. Sadly, as before, I fail dismally and people throw hissy fits in my face.

I wanted to post the letter here in its entirety but The One said I shouldn't in order to preserve such peace as there may be found.

So instead, I have decided to draw a line.


To me, this represents the line at the bottom of my letter of resignation on which I will gracefully place my signature soon.

And still, people wonder why I drink.

Written by I