and as I've not had a chance to really talk to a proper human being about it I'm going to sit here and open the gates.
I've been really tetchy for the past few days, quick to anger and easy to bug. As ever I'm reasonably sure what's causing this frustration and it's my job.
I fucking hate my job. Every time someone's asked me how I am recently I've said 'Work is meh but it pays the bills" and everyone seems to know what that's like. There are many aspects of my job which get me down:
It's corrupt
There's two factions in my company: one which comes to work every day, does their shift, earns their 'fair share' and works honestly - namely the majority of drivers on my shift; another which gets good jobs fed to them by other operators, the airport and city runs, who give their private number to customers and take bread and butter from the honest workers' pockets. I have to work with both parties every day and it seriously frustrates me when my boss can't or won't control what's going on.
My boss is a fucking retarded alcoholic pot-smoking tool
I used to have a kind of pitying respect for him, but for the past six or seven years he's made his bed and now he's lying in it. Currently his bed is covered in shit and detritus from his uncontrollable existence, he constantly talks shit and tries to be the cheeky charismatic chap he used to be but can't pull it off because he's so thoroughly bitter inside. Every time I talk to him I can feel my bowels loosening and my teeth gritting and he's one of the main reasons, and targets, for my mounting frustration.
It's very low pay
The only self-esteem I get from the job is that I have the respect of most of the drivers and the customers. I'm proud of the fact that I run the only tight ship around here and my integrity is intact, but there's a large part of me that's completely against working for something so fundamentally wrong. It would probably be easier if I was getting paid more than £5 an hour, which I'm not, despite taking on more responsibility and running the accounts for the past eighteen months. I've been close to asking for a raise for a while but I know it's pointless because my boss is a useless fuck who can't see what's in front of his nose. The bastard.
What this is coming to is something I've known and wanted for quite some time: I need another job. I think part of the problem is that I've known this in reality for a long time but not done anything about it. Better the devil you know, 'It pays the bills', there's a recession and the job market's rubbish, etc blah etc. All basically excuses for not getting myself out there and finding something fun, exciting and reasonably-paid so I can get this portion of my life on-track. I reckon just about everything else is sorted - my health both mental and physical has improved immeasurably recently, home life is stable and Sophie is happy and settled, my social life is moving in the right direction and I even had a 'date' a couple of weeks ago. Just imagine how happy I'd be if I had a properly fulfilling day of work and a satisfying paycheque at the end of it.
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