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Fuck My Life

If there ever was a worse time to be me (and believe me that most days I feel like it couldn’t be worse) then today can be called “The worst time to ever be Rammspieler”. The title says it all.

Fuck My Life.

If there is a bright center to the universe, I am now on the spot furthest away from it. Both literally and figuratively. I thought I was going to come on here with some good news and cheer to those who know me. Yet here I am, hanging my head as low as it’s ever been, in defeat. Just when I thought that I was about to start working my way towards better and brighter things in life, it all comes down in a nasty combo of bad timing, being fucking poor, not being able to go where I want and when I want, and for the finishing button strike to turn it into a Mortal Kombat-style Fatality to Fate itself, family friends who say they want the best for you, only to back out at the last minute in an act of hypocrisy so well played out, that only a fellow Puerto Rican can pull it off and get sympathy for it.

Today I was supposed to come on here and say that it was my first day at my new job. That while it may not be a totally awesome job, at least I wasn’t going to be making burgers and jacking-off into the “special sauce”, out of spite. I was supposed to say that I was going to be waking up at ungodly hours of the morning (which is actually more like my “daytime”, but it’s no fun if I have to sleep through it.) to go to a nearby city where the company I was going to work for, has their regional offices, take the company van and go wherever they sent me and a bunch of other minimum-wage slaves to go scan bar-codes, count merchandise and occasionally set up and stock the shelves of multinational stores that are just opening and are too lazy and cheap to have their own people do it. The hours were going to suck and the work was going to be tedious. But I was going to gladly do it because I gained a reason to do so, beyond mere survival at near-poverty levels. But now I feel that that one little reason to look forward to wearing all-black non-slip work shoes, Dickies, the company shirt and sweating it out, passing scanning equipment whilst store customers are ruining your shit by taking stuff out and putting it where it doesn’t belong while trying to do it as fast and as accurate as you can, is even further out of reach than before.

No I wasn’t fired. But as today was my first day at work, tomorrow I will be going into the offices and saying that I quit because “of circumstances beyond my control”. Those circumstances being, like I hinted at above, that the people who were bugging me the most to get a job and who said that they were going to help you, all of a sudden decided that they can’t help you out because “they just can’t”.

Obviously the only logical thing to do now is to keep on looking for a job that perhaps won’t inconvenience those who supposedly were on my side.

If there is one silver lining to all this, it is that I at least got paid for my training and perhaps there are other ways of getting closer to that Bright Spot in The Center Of The Universe.

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One response to “Fuck My Life

  1. Pingback: Left 4 Live: Or How I’m Updating After Six Months Of Ball-Chilling Weather, Mexicans and Deer | What Do You Know, Erde?

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