Frustration.

by aquagnome22

I am a frustrated corporate puppet.  Perhaps I should have named this blog “Corporate Puppet” instead of Axelapalooza.  Maybe for the next blog. . .

I didn’t get the job.  I blame the math test, because my interview itself went really well.   There is a high possibility that the math test was illegal anyways but that isn’t the point.  I mean seriously, how does asking me when two trains are 457 miles apart going to help a company in advertising sales? 

Client:  I want to reach X amount of people who are in X demographic. I want to spend X amount of money to do this and receive X amount of leads from this project.

Me: This reminds me of the time I had to figure out how long it would take a cow and a monkey to travel to Detroit.  The monkey has a crossbow and a one rollerskate.  The cow has a pogo stick and likes hookers.  Who will reach Detroit first?

Client: What does that have to do with anything?

Me: I have absolutely no idea.

I’m insane. 

My parents say it is a blessing in desguise because the product the company “sells” is on the sketchy side of things.  Its completely “legal”, but its one of those things that your anti-virus software hates.   It is something that I would never in a million years put on my own computer (um bad sign yes?).  And the company was sued a few times and changed its name.  Oh and I have a tendency to not like working for people with questionable business ethics.  Okay fine its better that I’m not working there but I really wanted the position for approximately 30 hours.

Last night in my haze of employment misery and after spending a day getting stupid e-mails from a coworker who makes me want to eat fiberglass insulation, I decided to go to Target.  I was hungry. . .it was a bad decision.  Hunger + loads of people= Angry Monkey. Trainees/ “New Team Members” rang up my purchases and the woman in front of me was wicked pissed because her ugly mittens were $4.99 damn it, not $5.99.

The only thing that could fix my ridiculous mood was eating a ridiculous amount of Taco Time, drinking a beer, and applying for more jobs.  Well it didn’t really fix my mood, but the consumption of saturated fat and alcohol did at least make me feel a bit better.

This morning on the way to work I had the following conversation with Gail.

 Me:  I want to stand on the roof of my car, throw things, and scream at people

Gail: Why?

Me: I’m stuck in traffic, following a Prius with a sticker that says “My Dauchshund is Smarter Than Your Honor Student,” and my physical is today.

Gail: You know, as of 4pm the last person to feel you up is a woman

Me: Thanks Gail

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