The universe is a sublimely powerful entity. Our parents have often told us to be careful what we say. Generation to generation, it has been advised that we be careful what we wish for, because it might come true. And today, the universe in its magnificent evil gave me a first hand demonstration of what can happen when you bitch about your job.
Gentlefolk, do not fear for me. I have not been sacked, fired, downsized or kicked the fuck out. You can all let go of the breath you were holding, I appreciate the concern. No people, my bosses have not thought to do the smart thing yet and relieve me of my duties, rather, I have been re-assigned.
That came out sounding rather cool didn't it? 'Re-assigned'. Isn't that the same term international law enforcement agencies use when moving their agents from place to place? "Mr Bond, you have been re-assigned to Qatar. On arrival your contact will approach you. This tape will self-destruct in 5 seconds...." Well mine wasn't as cool as that. To be honest, I got my instructions on Microsoft Office. But none the less, I was re-assigned.
Now if you know me personally, or you follow this blog, you will agree that one would be hard pressed to find someone who bitches about their job more than I do. Yes I know I'm always nagging, wailing etc about how much it sucks, how stressful, yet mind-numbing it is. How I would much rather anywhere but my claustrophobia inducing cubicle. I keep bitching and bitching and bitching... And today, the powers that be cried out to me "bitch not fool! For you have no inkling as to what a shit job is... But from hence forth, you shall be enlightened!".
We all know about the recession, and the effect it had on the financial sector in particular. Everybody scrambling to reclaim the loans given out, and collect debts owed them. My place of work is no different gentle folk, and I have been assigned just such a responsibility.
For purposes of anonymity, I have tried my best to keep my name a secret, and the same goes for me employers and our debtors. But let's say I work for a bank and there's a hotel that owes us money.
It is this hotel I have been sent to as some sort of corporate loan shark enforcer. I am the scary dude in a suit, who comes to shake down the fool who has the bosses money. I am Mafia. Italian, Cuban, Russian, Japanese. I am all these fearful organisation's muscle, just much more eloquent and considerably less violent and much better mannered.
The scenario I just painted sounds glamorous doesn't it. Even I who just conjured up this spectular mental picture is getting a bit of a stiffy right now. Unfortunately, this action packed narration is a bit over exaggerated. And funnily enuff, the previous statement is grossly understated! To cut the bullshit, all that stuff I just said was a projection of my adolescent mind.
Yes, I am currently in charge of debt recollection for my bank, from a hotel. But I swear it is the most boring thing I've ever been misfortuned to experience. I do not walk into the building, put my pistol on the table, and demand to see the manager... No. I walk into the building, sit down in the admin office and chat on my phone all day. When I tire of this activity, I get up, dust muself off and start chatting on a computer. At the end os the day, the hotel's accountant gives me a small portion of what is owed the bank and I take it to the office.
In plain english people, I do fuck all. Absolutely nothing all day.
I know what your're all thinking... That I have it sweet right? Can't imagine a better job can you? That's what I too assumed, but dammit, there actually is only so much lazing around a human can do. Even if the human is me. I actually got tired of doing nothin. Me?! I had no idea it was possible. I'm actually dreading the prospect of going there tomorrow and not doing anything. Let me try and explain it like this, my thumbs hurt. Such has been the extent of my chatting.
As I like to do though, the search for a positive amongst negative ensued, and soon enough, I found it. Or should I say her. Apparently she's the CEO's girlfriend and when I found this out, all I could think was, you know, "Who the fuck cares?!". She could be his mama for all I cared, shz is smoking. And she works there too. See, positive amongst negatives. Make no mistake, I will be wearing cologne tomorrow and from now on.
So Master Universe, you may have screwed me, but in the end, I shall cry out triumphantly..."Oh yeah baby, just like that. Do that for daddy..."
My name is Womilee, and that's all you need to know.