Work and The Tardy Tank

This week has been super long. Really. I mean, I had two different jobs this week. One so much better than the other that I could just bust.

My new supervisors are two of the nicest women I have ever met in my entire life. And several people have assured me that it is not an act, they really are genuinely nice, understanding, compassionate non-bitches. My schedule is super flexible even while I am training and no one really gives a shit what time I come in or what time I go to lunch or IF I go to lunch at all and I am fairly certain that I will not see a printout of my timecard when I am four minutes late. I am also fairly certain that, in order to point out my catastrophic tardy, the time will not be circled in red ink. True story. I thought I was going to get sent to the Tardy Tank*.

Granted, I spend all of my time with a headset on, listening and typing, but no one talks to me, there is no phone ringing nonstop and I don’t have to ask permission to pee. I think that I made a pretty good decision. Pay cut and all. I feel like an adult for the first time in almost five years!


*The Tardy Tank was the place to which you were banished at my high school if you couldn’t manage to make it to class on time. You sat. You didn’t speak. And you were monitored by the world’s oldest lesbians.

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