Chuckles Doesn't Like Me

When I got into work my IT account had expired. Chuckles, (my boss), said she would ask, Ebony, (the HR girl) to fix it. Chuckles told Ebony to make it active to the middle of September, when I go to the next job in woop woop.

I knew she had talked with Jack, I’m going to woop woop, she wants to get rid of me.

I made mistakes again, oh bugger. Of course, I blame Chuckles. A part from her rather dour personality, it is the piecemeal fashion in which she allocates work that is a problem.

Funnily enough, I think the mistake, which she picked up this time, was one that she, herself, made that I saw she didn’t save, which I didn’t mention, I thought fuck her. Is that karmic retribution?

It is no surprise to me that her former offsider left one day and never came back, sighting continuing illness.

Sam and I ate Indonesian, under the brain tumour building, for lunch. The house of beef skins. What is it The Tivoli Arcade? It is a nice break in the middle of being Chuckles-ised.

I’m sure Chuckles doesn’t like me. She said to someone on the phone,

“I’m flat out. No, she is still away. Yes, I’ve got a temp, but I’ve got to train them. Maybe it will be better next month.”

We practically sit next to each other and she says these things to whoever down the phone receiver as if I am not there. Is that passive aggressive, or what?

I know, it is unfortunate that I am not telepathic and I couldn’t just arrive knowing all of your procedures. She is one of the few people I have worked for who thinks training is an inconvenience?

First of all I took the phone call as a good thing, she’s talking about me being here next month. But then I realised, next month will be better because, maybe, I would have been replaced by then.

I wonder if the pot is making me paranoid? (Except, I don't think it makes you paranoid, it just feels similar to the feeling or paranoia) She’s just a bitch. Let’s ask her husband who she berates down the phone as if she loathes him.

I had leftover curry to eat and port wine jelly with oranges. I disappeared to my room and ate it.

I forgot the jelly.

I smoked pot, I wrote in my journal, I watched Big Brother. I watched Underbelly.

I ran down stairs and got the jelly when I heard Shane leave the house. He left the light on and he didn’t take his car, I knew he wouldn’t be long. He hates to be on his own.

I watched some porn.

Sometime later, Shane arrived home with someone, I couldn’t place the voice, although it may have been Mark W, I don’t know. Shane talks loudly and all you have to do it stand on the upstairs landing and you can hear what he is saying in the lounge room.

“You see, I have to do something to get myself out of here.”

It sounded more like the self focussed Shane talking about his big adventure, more so then leaving the viper’s nest. I could hear he was in full swing about himself.

I decided I couldn’t even be bothered eavesdropping and went back to bed to watch teev and fall asleep.

I decided, I couldn’t pinch his dope any more. It is so easy to get cameras. Jill showed me one the other day that she had bought that looked like a clock, which sat on the shelf. She wants to spy on her cleaner.

Oh could you imagine the humiliation?