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Havenít the Stomach for It -- 11.15.07
 
Work is getting much more intolerable as I realize how much of a dead-end it is, and how much my time there is wasted time. Precious time is being wasted there doing nothing but existing. It has become some sort of purgatory, a place halfway between alive and dead. Is it any wonder the time I spend there is increasingly depressing. Today it once again came to a head when one of my co-workers was complaining about how heís picked on. Picked on to him is being asked to do some actual work. ARGH! One of the managers asked me to do the trash pick-up since it wasnít busy. But, the sheep customers all decided to pay for their groceries at the same time, so she asked me to open up another register. A few minutes later my complaining co-worker arrives from outside, or wherever he hides himself, and the manager asks him to finish doing the trash. He says, ďWho was doing it and left it undone?Ē I tell him it was me, and he right away says, ďHow come you didnít finish it then.Ē I just shook my head and told him to stop complaining and to just do the work. Thereís a line in the Tao te Ching about doing oneís work and letting it be afterwards. Itís a simple concept, do your work and stop admiring it, complaining about it, or trying to fix it. Just let it be. Of course me bitching about work is counter to that, I realize the irony in my statement. But, I bring it up as much more of a portrait of how bad things are at work because of my fellow employees. I even voiced that to a customer that itís not the customers that drive me mad, but rather my fellow employees.

Though, today my melancholy trigger was a customer that said something about me taking too long with a problem customer. The manager didnít want to help me, so I was out on my own. So I did the best to resolve it, but obviously not fast enough. Once done the dummy remarks about how I could have fixed the problem a lot faster. Obviously I tried to do so, but he canít appreciate that. Iím sure if it was him with a problem he wouldnít care how long it took to resolve it. For whatever reason his remark just tore through me and I hated the rest of the day from that exact point forward. It was a throw-away remark by some throw-away idiot, but it made me want to punch him in the face, punch the damn machine, punching the manager for not helping, and punching the face of god.

I know Iím not the only one that feels this way because people are quitting left and right at the store right now. The management makes people feel subhuman, not worthy of any sort of compassion or humanity. Rather weíre automatons in a large machine that chews us up everything that makes us humans and expects us to do it with a smile.

All this is happening just as I get news that my father is sick... again. Having dealt with my Grandmotherís illness for nearly four years Iíve learned not to go nuts every time someone is in the hospital. It doesnít help them get better, nor does it help me deal with it. But, of course, being that I donít really have any affection for my father, the constant calls for me to go and visit him in the hospital are becoming more annoying than anything. I DONíT want to visit him, nor do care to drive a couple of hundred miles to feign interest.
I few months ago I wrote an about how my relationship with my father is more indifferent than anything else. But I think I should amend that to say that the feelings arenít indifference, but rather acrimony. So honestly I wish I could tell my aunts (his sisters) that call me to tell me that I should visit that they should just leave me alone. I donít like feeling this way towards anyone, let alone my father. But, it is how I feel, deeply and without wavering. Iím angry about how he put other things ahead of my mother and me. That betrayal is something that must have spurred these ill feelings towards him within me. He has constantly represented something that I am repulsed by... the importance of money before family and life.
End Communication.

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