10 pounds down 32 pounds to go!

Thursday, May 29, 2008

No quiero hablarte

At college one of the cutest, sweetest girls in the whole world lived across the hall from me. We called her Pooh, and she was cute and sweet and also had a weird fixation with the state of New Jersey but, you know, whatever...we loved her. She was up for anything and would do anything for you. She was a freshman when I was a junior and living in my big, fancy single room. We used to do pathetically lazy things like IM to each other across the hallway, or call each other from one side of the concrete wall to the other. On one very special occasion I called Pooh to come to my room, I told her I needed help with something. Dutifully she came over and when she got there I asked her to hand me the notebook by my door so I didn't have to get up. She did it before realizing that I was being an asshole and then we had a stuffed animal fight. It was awesome. So, of course, I had to do it again. That scenario played out a few times...Ring Ring "Pooh, I NEED you"..."can you find my remote?" enter pillow fight stage left.

I'm not particularly proud of being the upperclassman that makes freshmen do menial jobs even if they do happen to be in love with New Jersey. I feel I have grown in to a decidedly helpful and kind person. So, from a point of pure belief in my own perfection I tell you that I absolutely will not do anyone else's bitch work at my job. I am an assistant. ALL of my work is bitch work and I really don't need any more. Long story short, I had a grumpy gus of a day. Someone told me that they're putting me on the schedule for the register so someone can go home early a few days a week. No, no you're really not. If I wanted to work on a cash register I would work at walmart and not have to take my insane ass job home with me every night.

The very difficult part is that this someone is the same someone who asked her previous co-worker (the one who recently quit with no notice) to get her a tissue from across the room (no fucking wonder). I'm not going to be that person. I have worked very hard to be what I need to be for this job and not a. go insane or b. kill anyone, while actually impressing my post-it note counting boss. I'm not doing your job too, I'm just not.

This person has told me I need to work more hours to help her, no...you're not my boss. This person has asked me to empty buckets for her...yeah, I didn't go to college to empty buckets. This person actually gives me more trouble than my actual boss, which is impressive beyond words and has made me cranky. I just got to thinking this job was do-able. RATS!

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