Do you ever get the urge to jab searing hot pokers into your eyeballs,
or smash a sledgehammer into your skull,
or run your fingers through a circular saw, thinking
Man this oughta feel good!
Yeah, me neither, which is why I'm still trying to figure out why I've chosen to participate in the mutilation of my soul...
I have applied for a promotion.
I am voluntarily trying to climb a rickety, smelly, rotting, degrading TSA ladder.
I can't decide whether I'm crazy or just fucking stupid.
Here's how I justify being so mean to myself -
It won't be forever...starting school means something else is on my horizon. It better hurry the fuck up.
I could use the extra money. Mama's gotta pay the bills and raise her kids, and I'll do whatever it takes to make sure that happens, and turns out as good as possible.
The team I work with is in desperate need of help. Our leadership is for shit and the morale is for even worse shit. I honestly feel I can do a much better job than how we're being managed now.
Nothing wrong with a little challenge, anyway.
This morning I had my interview over the phone. That's quite possibly the worst way to conduct an interview, but I had no choice so I sucked it up and gave it my best.
So if you hear wailing and gnashing of teeth coming from my little frozen corner of the earth, it means I got the promotion.
Wish me luck!