Monday, June 08, 2009

As of this very morning, I've been at my current job for one year. In that time, I've fixed at least thirty spyware/virus related issues which were caused by users surfing the internet and installing games, ten dead hard drives, one dead power supply, 13 keyboards, 37 mice, 20 40lb CRT monitors, most located on the third floor, got stuck on a freight elevator for a half hour once, installed around 20GBs worth of RAM in 512MB increments, fixed close to 300 printer issues, showed 100 people how to use the Sametime IM client(don't ever use it, it's part of Lotus Notes[Fuck Lotus Notes. Fuck it up its stupid ass]), set up wireless internet 423 times, 100 of which was for the same lady, including one more this morning asking that I help her set up her wireless at home, which I'm not looking forward to working on, hence why I'm typing this right now. I've almost thrown myself into a paper machine ten times in the hopes of ending my life because the users here are so stupid. I very nearly cried myself to sleep thinking about the hours I spent in college memorizing the names of things only to find out that Category 5e Ethernet cable is, in actuality, called "Internet Hose".

On the plus side, I got a free trip to Ottawa, Canada where I fell in love with poutine and Tim Horton's donuts. I was afforded the ability to go to Fest last year and will be doing the same this year, only I'm doing it right this year and will be out for four nights in Gainesville.

The most distressing thing I found out about my job is what my contracting agency is making off my labor. I found that information a couple weeks ago, and, after doing the math, subtracting my wages from their earnings, found out that because of me someone is driving a brand spanking new 2009 Cadillac CTS. Black with white leather interior. Not fully loaded, mind you, but it's got the giant sunroof and the full wood panel on the dash, which is all you really need. I don't drive that car, I could barely afford a quarter of that car on what I made. No, I drive a Buick that has three windows and a tape deck that all don't work and a check engine light that's always on and a light that tells me I need to tighten the gas cap, even though it's tight enough.

I'm not an actual employee where I work, so I don't get any kind of health insurance or paid vacation or yearly raises. Instead, I get users who are complete assholes who tell me "What do you mean you can't fix that? My kid could fix it in five minutes!" to which I very nearly replied with "Bitch! If your Asperger's riddled child could fix this, then why did you waste your time and mine calling me?" after which, in my mind, I thrust my hand through her chest, out the other side and dropped her still beating heart onto the floor and then pulled my arm out of the empty chest cavity, let the lifeless corpse fall to the ground and I spat on it and said "Next time, call your kid, interrupt his WOW session, and get him to deliver you a 25' USB cable to run from the projector mounted on the ceiling to the laptop in the middle of the room, causing a safety hazard because it's not run through the conduit like it's supposed to be, all so you can advance a Powerpoint slide with a remote rather than clicking a fucking button on your mouse, you lazy fucking bitch."

said Tommy T. at 10:00 AM - #

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