It's not that I don't like my job. I actually do. For the first time in my adult life, (and possibly for the first time in my entire working life) I have a job that I feel a sense of purpose in. I enjoy the work I do, and I have a boss that, idiosyncrasies aside, is one of the best you could ask for. He actually not only says please and thank you, but is quick to point out a job well done. Some of my coworkers leave a lot to be desired in terms of efficiency, but are easy enough to work with. And my workload is that of 3 people, at least I'm busy, and the day goes by quicker that way.
That said, there are just days when everyone pisses you off, and you really wish you could tell them all to shove it, you don't "need this job". Today has been one of those days. Alas, I do "need this job", so instead of telling them to shove it, I just smile, and say "sure, I'd love to help you". @%$@#$%@$%!!!!
I won't elaborate on the many reasons why today was a "I hate my job" kind of day, but lets just say that a certain co-worker is lucky she didn't get smacked. I'm already doing the job of AT LEAST three people, and when she can't carry her own weight...doing...well...I'm not really sure what it is that she does all day long anyway, besides take personal phone calls from one of her sons or her husband or whatever...then I have to add HER work to my list of things, and well...that's just downright annoying. To put it mildly.
And why is it that these sorts of days always happen on Mondays, when I'm already moody anyway, because I had a nice weekend, doing whatever I pleased and was rudely shaken out of my sleep by man's worst invention (the alarm clock) to begin a week that belongs to "the man"?
Moody mopey and cranky...that was me today.