I’m really fucking angry with my bosses right now.
I called in sick to work yesterday because I’ve got the headcold from hell and monthly cramps on top of that had me a puddle of pain when I wasn’t doped up on a ridiculous amount of painkillers.
Went in today because the cold is a little better and the cramps were gone. As soon as I got there I got called upstairs for a Talk.
According to The Allmighty and Powerful Duty Manager I called in sick because I ‘wasn’t very happy’ on Saturday and was tehrefor obviously malingering on Sunday.
I. AM. SICK.
AS IN PHYSICALLY ILL.
WITH A COMMUNICABLE UPPER RESPIRATORY INFECTION.
Yes I have Dysthymia, yes I also get bouts of major depression on top of that. But no matter how fucking hard I tried to get it through to Bossface that THE MENTAL ILLNESS WAS NOT GERMANE AT THE CURRENT TIME I couldn’t fucking get him away from his comfortable ‘the crazy person is being lazy’ story.
Talking to them is a waste of breath because no matter how carefully I try to explain things, no matter how much experience I have in the store or how good I am at my job or how many languages I can curse them out in I’m just the crazy chick so I don’t know shit.
It's enough to make me contemplate throwing their fucking filing cabinets into the carpark and laughing.
