Seddah's Journal

Fuck. This. Job.

My boss is an idiot.  She's a fucking idiot.  She doesn't know what the fuck she's doing.  She gives me all these stupid jobs and expects me to just instinctively know what it is she wants of me when all she says is "You're going to run this event" or "Work on that".  Work on it how?  Do what to it?  What needs to be done?  She doesn't have a fucking clue.  She doesn't realize that she's the only one living in her fucking head and the rest of us out int he real world have no fucking idea what the fuck she means by all her bullshit.  I fucking hate this job.

It was okay in the beginning.  Hell, I can even deal with crazy Rob now.  I don't fucking care.  But Sandra?  No.  NO FUCKING WAY.  I don't know if I can finish this stupid contract.  This job is fucking clown shoes.

I hate my life.  I fucking hate this fucking bitch job.  Sandra never gives you a reason for getting shit done by a certain time.  She doesn't let you know what the hell you're supposed to be getting done when.  She never tells you any of the deadlines and then gets pissed if you miss one.

I want to quit.  I don't want to deal with this bitch shit anymore.  I can't quit, though.  I need the money.  I want to kill myself.  I fucking hate this job.  So fucking much.  I hate myself.  I hate my life.