Doc, They are Trying to Kill Me

[Iason Ouabache]

Doc, I know it's been an extremely long time. I've been through a very rough patch lately though. This job I have is trying to kill me. They are trying to make me into a respectable member of society. To make me a responsible adult. To make me a team player. A company man. Someone who pulls their weight. Someone who begs for overtime. The average guy with a house, wife, two kids, and a cat.

Instead, they are slowly killing me. They've got me working odd hours that constantly shift. I'm doing the job of two since everyone worth a damn was smart enough to leave. My socks are constantly soaked. I've lost 15 pounds, but not the old fashioned way. Most days I barely have time for three squares and end up with only two oddly shaped meals instead. I'm constantly fighting a distant bureaucracy and can't keep myself out of my bosses' doghouse.

But worst of all, they took away my slack! Gone are the carefree days of Not Giving a Fuck and leaving my worries at the door right after punching the hell out of the time clock. They got me stressing while I'm at home now. Did I remember to close that valve? Did I put enough bags in? Should I have cleaned one more thing before I left? Is the day shift guy going to complain to my supervisor for forgetting to put that skid away?

There's no reprieve, Doc. They've gotten into my head and I don't know how to get them out. They've got me to the point where death is no longer my number one fear, getting fired is. They've bought my soul for the US median household income. I know they are going to kill me at some point. Lord have mercy on the man who is left in my place.

[Freeky]

Not even a horrible bastard like Iason deserves that. 

[Triple Zero]

Well Iason, you're back! So they didn't put out the fire in you just yet, buddy!

[Mesozoic Mister Nigel]

Welcome back, Iason!

You can make it, buddy. I know you can find a way to turn it around and use their horrible against them.

[The Good Reverend Roger]

Doc, I know it's been an extremely long time. I've been through a very rough patch lately though. This job I have is trying to kill me. They are trying to make me into a respectable member of society. To make me a responsible adult. To make me a team player. A company man. Someone who pulls their weight. Someone who begs for overtime. The average guy with a house, wife, two kids, and a cat.

Instead, they are slowly killing me. They've got me working odd hours that constantly shift. I'm doing the job of two since everyone worth a damn was smart enough to leave. My socks are constantly soaked. I've lost 15 pounds, but not the old fashioned way. Most days I barely have time for three squares and end up with only two oddly shaped meals instead. I'm constantly fighting a distant bureaucracy and can't keep myself out of my bosses' doghouse.

But worst of all, they took away my slack! Gone are the carefree days of Not Giving a Fuck and leaving my worries at the door right after punching the hell out of the time clock. They got me stressing while I'm at home now. Did I remember to close that valve? Did I put enough bags in? Should I have cleaned one more thing before I left? Is the day shift guy going to complain to my supervisor for forgetting to put that skid away?

There's no reprieve, Doc. They've gotten into my head and I don't know how to get them out. They've got me to the point where death is no longer my number one fear, getting fired is. They've bought my soul for the US median household income. I know they are going to kill me at some point. Lord have mercy on the man who is left in my place.

I know where you're coming from, and believe me when I agree with you that the problem isn't in the company or in management, the problem is in your head.  What you NEED is for the Angel of Apathy to come along and whack you upside the head with the Closing Time Stick.

Fact:  They don't fire or not fire based on dedication and hours put in, etc, etc, they do it based on who looks like a victim. 

[infinityshock]

this is why god invented alcohol and xanax

[Anna Mae Bollocks]

Doc, I know it's been an extremely long time. I've been through a very rough patch lately though. This job I have is trying to kill me. They are trying to make me into a respectable member of society. To make me a responsible adult. To make me a team player. A company man. Someone who pulls their weight. Someone who begs for overtime. The average guy with a house, wife, two kids, and a cat.

Instead, they are slowly killing me. They've got me working odd hours that constantly shift. I'm doing the job of two since everyone worth a damn was smart enough to leave. My socks are constantly soaked. I've lost 15 pounds, but not the old fashioned way. Most days I barely have time for three squares and end up with only two oddly shaped meals instead. I'm constantly fighting a distant bureaucracy and can't keep myself out of my bosses' doghouse.

But worst of all, they took away my slack! Gone are the carefree days of Not Giving a Fuck and leaving my worries at the door right after punching the hell out of the time clock. They got me stressing while I'm at home now. Did I remember to close that valve? Did I put enough bags in? Should I have cleaned one more thing before I left? Is the day shift guy going to complain to my supervisor for forgetting to put that skid away?

There's no reprieve, Doc. They've gotten into my head and I don't know how to get them out. They've got me to the point where death is no longer my number one fear, getting fired is. They've bought my soul for the US median household income. I know they are going to kill me at some point. Lord have mercy on the man who is left in my place.

I know where you're coming from, and believe me when I agree with you that the problem isn't in the company or in management, the problem is in your head.  What you NEED is for the Angel of Apathy to come along and whack you upside the head with the Closing Time Stick.

Fact:  They don't fire or not fire based on dedication and hours put in, etc, etc, they do it based on who looks like a victim. 

THIS.

Don't let them run you like a dog, it screams "go ahead and use me, then kick me hard".