I Raise My Middle Finger, and Take it To Greener Pastures (tm)
by Weasello
A fun and insightful dance of finger waggling and pointing accentuated with real-world-events and other dreadful things.
TOPIC: Today I am going to quit my job. I haven't done it yet, but I'm going to.
I am typing this on company time.
WHO: Internet PM, my employer, no longer interests me, no longer suits my requirements of daily life, and also,
sucks ass. Internet PM deserves a node on it's own.
In a nutshell, Internet PM (www.internetpm.com) is a subsidiary of
SexCo (www.sexco.
net). Visit SexCo's website and draw your own conclusions. Or heck, form a conclusion by the name of the place.
WHAT: My current job title is "
Executive Assistant." To my boss, this means "
Vice President or close approximation thereof." To the rest of this world, this means "
Overpaid Secretary." This is problem #1 with my job, but more on that later. I was hired to work for $25 (Canadian) per hour, as a sales person. I am now making $15 (Canadian) per hour as a "Vice President." This is problem #2. I now do all hiring, firing, sales, and accounting. I also do everything else, but not exclusively; I do have co-workers.
WHEN: As soon as I've finished this node. I will save this node, s
peelcheque, cheque grammzr, fix my pipe-linked squarey brackety thingies, and then go
drop "
da bomb."
HOW: By utilizing my middle finger, accompanying speech, and a backup letter in case I chicken out. Which I likely will,
news at 11.
WHY: For pay reasons, or lack thereof technically. My paycheque was due on the 15th of April, and I still have not received it. (Today is
April 18, 2002.) Job description also plays a big role, as well as working environment. My boss has a way of screaming his head off when, for some reason, his company is no longer financially sound. Meanwhile, he reaps a paycheque worth more than three times our highest paid employee - who is, by the way, in Tech Support and is not in fact the Vice President.
Oooh it gets worse than this, but I cannot divulge trade secrets - not with the
14-page non-disclosure agreement I had to sign - which, by the way, also prohibits me from working anywhere with a
computer for
15 years.
CONCLUSION: It is nigh time that I
Get a REAL job! Tomorrow I will be able to say that
I quit my job yesterday.
"
You said you should quit your job and become an inventor, or you'd torch the house."
Shut it, you!
Job satisfaction? HAH! Try
job dissatisfaction.
My job is a drug, but one of those bad drugs -
I just don't know when to quit. I'm hopelessly addicted to money. Someday I will learn that
you are not your job, and less importantly, the
difference between good job and bad job.
Today,
weasello.
Quit your job.
That's it. I quit team sanity.