(no subject)

[changeling]

The snitch landed on Voldemort's head. (Dogs bark, can't fly without umbrella.)


Been in a shit mood all day. Was bloddy tired due to Wendyness last night. Started to wake/cheer up at two o'clock. Finished on the page I was working on for the microfilm, went downstairs to log all the applications on computer, only to be told by Drake that they'd extended my contract at this particular arsehole of a job for another three weeks.

"You're okay with that, right?"

"...[long pause]... yeh, sure. Whatever."

I really, really, REALLY need to learn to say NO.


You know, this whole thing wouldn't be quite so bad if it was because they liked my work, or whatever, but it's just because they need people and the other two temps have already skipped out. Bastards.

Three more days! Four more weeks. Fuck.

Comments

[buhfly.livejournal.com]

You're through a temp agency, yes? You can request a job change. You say, "This isn't working out. I don't like this. Find me something else, kthanks." *nod*

[delirieuse.livejournal.com]

I could, if I wasn't such a complete wuss. And I'm still feeling guilty about leaving my last job (I'd planned it first!) when half of the rest of the employees did. I have a Catholic-sized guilt complex. >_