work, work, work

i love my job. i just don’t like the people i work for.

case in point: yesterday i divert from standard sackcloth & ashes procedure & wear (gasp) lipstick. first thing he says, oh you must have had fun this weekend, you’re wearing lipstick. whatever. today it’s back to the raggedy, ungroomed look.

case in point: today, boss sends me this article: Mayhem at Cybercafes Shakes a town in California (NY Times article, may require signup). i am chuckling defensively at the line ?But it was the murder of Mr. Ly that brought the confluence of gangs and computer games ? once the province of harmless nerds ? to a dangerous level? when the discussion turns to gangs & boss goes on about the blacks always being in trouble. how it’s in their culture. he has a problem with (non-caucasian) ethnicity in all its forms (except ?the asians?, whom he appreciates for their cheap greymarket computer parts, although he often mocks their accent after getting off the phone with the order department).

he was going on about What We Should Do About These coloured Folk when i noticed this, in the article: ?Most gangs are Vietnamese, he said, although there are many Koreans and Hispanics in the area, which includes the enclave of Little Saigon in Westminster.? so i’m not sure how he got to ranting about the blacks. maybe he saw one on his way to have coffee with the xenophobic old white men’s club that meets at the donut shop every morning, & it upset him.

i suspect he masturbates to pictures of john ashcroft. more likely, he masturbates to pictures of me [shudder]. at one point i had a point with this. then i had to click away & recreate it all out of the various rants in my head at the moment. it’s too early to be PMS. whatever.

never mind all that. i just got a particularly frustrating ODBC connection up & running & it’s all about loving the job. sports club site is at a point where i can take a breath or two, so i’m posting this. loving my job. loving my job.

5 thoughts on “work, work, work

  1. ahh, well, yes, here’s the problem. i go all fussmonster over stuff like this, & i forget to mention he built a puter out of spare parts for my son to play with when he comes to work with me, or that he’s probably the reason i still work here after years of flakery, or that when i’m broke, i snivel & he slips me some cash?

    to say that my worklife is more dysfunctional than any home life anywhere ever, would still be exaggerating, as i am wont to do, however, *sigh*. water rises to its own level. i ain’t no picnic of an employee either.

    & he doesn’t talk about this sort of thing too often. it’s just when he does, i could kill.

  2. not all the people i work with are like this, & not this bad. i am no stranger to hyperbole, or in other words, objects in weblog may be smaller than they appear.

    i just feel kinda bitchy today.

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