Because yesterday sucked ass.

To start with, work is kinda sucking ass. The guy that hired me totally misrepresented what I’d be doing in RMA and how it would be so basically my job consists of all of the shit that made me leave Don Hattan, but I’m making $1 an hour more. Yay. I fucking hate myself because I chose RMA over Tech support because it was billed to me as “a call center” and because of some sort of weird-ass confirmation bias bullshit I chose RMA over what turns out is Tech Support which is merging with IT which is BASICALLY MY FUCKING DREAM JOB. And the plant manager is denying me transfer because of “the plan” so I’m stuck doing glorified data entry while my friend who chose tech support is sitting in the air conditioning in comfy office chairs (I get a shitty stool) making $1 an hour more than I do and getting loads of overtime.


Go through my day until my boss and the department manager call me into the conference room. Yesterday (flashback time) I was doing some menial task for them where we take scratched/dented computer cases and refurb them to the best of our ability so we don’t lose too much money. I was told to take the unfixable cases, put them on a pallet, and put them out to be recycled. The fucking CEO is walking through the plant and sees this and gets LIVID we’re throwing out “perfectly good parts” (I could go on about how dumb that statement is) and starts asking me questions. I was just doing what my boss told me, so I answered him and asked what he would like me to do, then I do it. So today I’m called into the office. Fuckin CEO was in a mood and thought I was taking an attitude with him. Even though it was 24 hours later he pulled my boss into his office and screamed at him about me “WHO THE FUCK DOES THAT WHITE BOY THINK I AM?” (CEO is egyptian) and I got written up and very nearly fired.

Also on the way to work my brake fluid light came back on. I just filled it up yesterday, so the NB is now undrivable.

So we talk, my boss understands but tells me I’m on thin-ass ice with the fucking owners, and I go back to work.

Bank messages me saying my bank account balance is low (power steering repairs killed me). No surprise but more stress.

Girlfriend messages me that the Buick has died and won’t start all the fuckin way across town. Que fuckin breakdown at work. She gets it to start and limps it to Fammo where it’s parked. Lesson learned is used fuel pumps = no bueno. So $120 + shipping for a new Riv fuel pump, an as-yet undetermined amount for a Miata caliper, and in the meantime Michaela has no way to get to school/work. So right now I’m gonna give her the Sentra and hope she can drive it and I’ve gotta fix the fucking NA to drive to work tomorrow.

But, hey. I fixed the NA. So there’s that. Have a random throwback picture