i hate my job. yes, it's a strong opening to a blog. and i'm terrifically fond of saying 'hate is a wasteful emotion'. but i don't know that there is another appropriate word that conveys my actual feelings. 'strongly dislike' just doesn't sound as good. i work from home. i sit in my home office, in street clothes, without shoes on, and type on a computer all day long. i sell things in a chat environment. i am a salesperson. i am good at it. and i hate it.
it's not the job itself. i love the product, i love interacting with people, and i like most of the people i work with. but, i can't lie - typing nonstop for hours and hours on end everyday pisses me (and my wrists) off. like right now, i'm typing recreationally. i take breaks. like i'm about to stop to get more soda. but when i'm working, i can't stop. i have to chat with up to three people at one time, and i have to answer each of them within like 20 fucking seconds. have you tried keeping up three different conversations at once? literally at the same time? and answering fast, like they were the only people you are talking to?
most of you will say 'no, that's ridiculous'. at least one of you will nod your head knowingly and share in my pain. what makes this more fun *sarcasm* is that i'm batshit crazy. i may have mentioned that before. it makes me all irrational and angry and mad at inanimate objects like my computer. it causes me to yell obscenities at customers who cannot hear me. or throw things. i do prefer throwing things. awesome husband repeatedly tries to get me to keep like stuffed animals in the room to throw when i have the urge.
he just doesn't get that if it doesn't break, it's not helping.
so i try not to throw things. but our cordless phone doesn't work *perfectly*. and there is a funny rattling noise in our remote control. um, and i broke my cell once. but only once.
seriously, i'm quitting my job. in this economy. i'm keeping it as long as i can possibly stand, to make a few extra dollars before i dedicate all my time to making bags and cases and shit (http://rule42custom.com if you're interested in seeing what i'd rather be doing). luckily i have an awesome husband and mom who will be working and making money to replace the money i no longer can make. being batshit crazy and all. i can't even hold a job that's located in my house. seriously.
so. the point is that i can be having the shittiest day. the kind of day that no amount of new found glory, billy joel, less than jake, or bouncing souls can help. the kind of day where you think 'i need a drink after work' but then can't even find the desire/energy/will to leave the house and get a drink. or make dinner. or take a shower. you get the idea: i'm crazy enough that one of those 'bad days' will ruin me for like three days in a row.
but i'm having this shittiest day. and my shift ends at 4pm. now, i don't know how, but samantha seems to have this sixth sense about when my work day is done. she doesn't do this everyday either. she did it today, and i totally needed it. it was just after 4. i had gotten rid of those rotten, non-buying customers with stupid questions and logged out of all that dumb shit i need for work. i closed everything on my screen that was work related and leaned back for a minute. and here comes samantha, jumping up on my desk (using an open filing drawer as a step up) meowing and all purry and she just rams her little kitteh head into mine.
then she proceeds to lay down (covering my schedule for the rest of the week, i might add) and looks at me with cute kitteh eyes, still purring like a tractor, and starts kneading on my desk. (if you're not a cat person, kneading or making muffins is when they flex their little claws into something, alternating from right paw to left and back and forth. and they push their paw into it. they kneaded their mother's belly near the nipples to stimulate milk flow when they were babies, so this is a super happy, comfortable, content, loving thing.) then she mews and jumps onto my chest, curls up under my chin with her front paws and head on my shoulder, and keeps rubbing on my chin and cheek and any part of me she can butt her head into, all the while digging her muffin-making claws into my shoulder.
it *almost* makes the shittiest day better. it certainly helps an awful lot. it's scientifically proven that petting a cat can lower your blood pressure and stress levels. now while samantha cannot negate the kind of stress that batshit crazy causes, she sure does make me feel like the best person in the world, at least for a little while.