The Cliffs of Insanity (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
tinhuvielartanis) wrote2008-11-15 03:11 pm
tinhuvielartanis) wrote2008-11-15 03:11 pm
Entry tags:
Klonopin
Klonipin is finally helping me sleep, and sleep good, with funky-ass dreams as an added benefit. The downside is that I'm seriously wibbly when I do get up. Here's a picture of my resignation letter, as well as a pic of my favourite manager Steve, and my work station.
Here's a picture of my resignation letter.
Now, what I really wanted to write was: You motherfuckers ask way too much for way too little and your human compassion was flushed down the toilet after your read that insidious brain-washing book that the company requires all managers in training to read. You're the type who'd gladly drink the Kool-Aid if it added to your store's profits for the month. You can take your cheap-ass low-grade products and shove them up your chocolate whiz-way. Oh, and that insurance I stuck around way too long to keep? It sucks just as much as you do. I pay to have them tell me that they aren't going to pay anything. You can take Cigna and swish it around in the muck in which you regularly wallow. Piss on you, piss on you store, and piss on the dregs of society that continually walk through its doors. Yours very truly, Darth Shriek.
But I didn't, as you can plainly see.
Here's a pic of my favourite manager and the one to whom I gave my resignation. He's a good guy and deserves better than being stuck at Dollar General. Here's Steve, being all cool and shit.
And here's my work station. They could have given me a stool, but they said it was against company policy. I just couldn't take it anymore. Sally Foster should end at the end of this month. When that happens, I'm going to draw unemployment and get as much assistance as possible for school. And I'm going to file for disability. Something has got to change for me. Something's gotta give. It's crazy how I'm trying to do what's considered the right thing, when I'm physically (and mentally) unable. When you can't sleep for panic attacks, you can't function at work.
I'm on my way, dammit.
So there you have it, the end of Dollar General. I'm gonna miss some of the clientele, but some of them need to crawl back under their rocks and die.
Here's a picture of my resignation letter.
Now, what I really wanted to write was: You motherfuckers ask way too much for way too little and your human compassion was flushed down the toilet after your read that insidious brain-washing book that the company requires all managers in training to read. You're the type who'd gladly drink the Kool-Aid if it added to your store's profits for the month. You can take your cheap-ass low-grade products and shove them up your chocolate whiz-way. Oh, and that insurance I stuck around way too long to keep? It sucks just as much as you do. I pay to have them tell me that they aren't going to pay anything. You can take Cigna and swish it around in the muck in which you regularly wallow. Piss on you, piss on you store, and piss on the dregs of society that continually walk through its doors. Yours very truly, Darth Shriek.
But I didn't, as you can plainly see.
Here's a pic of my favourite manager and the one to whom I gave my resignation. He's a good guy and deserves better than being stuck at Dollar General. Here's Steve, being all cool and shit.
And here's my work station. They could have given me a stool, but they said it was against company policy. I just couldn't take it anymore. Sally Foster should end at the end of this month. When that happens, I'm going to draw unemployment and get as much assistance as possible for school. And I'm going to file for disability. Something has got to change for me. Something's gotta give. It's crazy how I'm trying to do what's considered the right thing, when I'm physically (and mentally) unable. When you can't sleep for panic attacks, you can't function at work.
I'm on my way, dammit.
So there you have it, the end of Dollar General. I'm gonna miss some of the clientele, but some of them need to crawl back under their rocks and die.