*Sigh*
Here's what I wrote in its unfiltered glory. I only posted part of it on my Facebook because it spun into a rant about work:
I am a powerhouse. I am a force of nature.
The Mr. said to me, while we were still in the ‘getting to know you’ phase of things, “You have your own gravitational field. It’s like people come and go from your world in an orbit, but they never truly leave.”
I am pretty fucking awesome at everything I do. And, damn it! Why aren’t we “allowed” to proclaim such positives about ourselves?
It is one thing to finally learn how to graciously accept a compliment, but even now when a random stranger like the receptionist at my doctor’s office for example, looks up from her computer screen and says, “Wow! I love your hair!” I sense a change in her tone when I reply with a simply “Thank you” rather than some kind of self-deprecating explanation that “It’s a mess today” or some other such excuse that really means “I don’t believe that my hair IS fabulous.”
Well fuck that! My hair IS fabulous! And yes, I just saved
our company another couple thousands of dollars in pay outs because I didn’t
stop when I was told ‘No’ the first 4 times. I also got these ‘non-refundable
hotel rooms’ refunded, helping our company live up to the reputation they have
for taking care of their customers. *And by the way, I don’t believe that I am
only number TWO on that list of stats. I clearly see seven names and seven
schedules and one of those names is someone who does NOT currently do our job.
You are not fooling anyone!*
While I’m at it, I am livid that I may have to start working
on the weekends again. I have not worked a weekend shift in over two years. At
the last call center I worked for, I was promoted into leadership as a trainer
before my training had officially been completed. Even in my ugly skirts and
clunky heels, I walked around the place like a rock star and was treated as
such. My reputation as the “Wicked Bitch of the West” didn’t stop the corporate
big wigs from offering me the work from home gig when I announced that I was
leaving Texas. These days I still talk to people in that call center as part of
my job. Someone I’d never met called me by the wrong name once, and when I
corrected him he replied that he was surprised he would confuse me because
everyone around there always talked about how “Hot” I am. I guess my skirts
weren’t as ugly as I thought.
*PS- that really was a typo. The guy that out-ranked me is fabulous and I adore him. Except that the fucker got the shift I wanted. So I hate him. But I love him. Really. And now I'm working 8 hr days instead of 10 hr days.
And here's what I came across on my news feed this morning:
http://www.xojane.com/fun/i-can-take-a-compliment-but-i-cant-dish-it-out-sort-of
THOSE BITCHES!
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