I've been thinking lately that nothing is so damaging to our notions of justice than the average workplace. It seems like the universal work experience: People are always getting promoted who shouldn't be, the folks that are genuine screw-ups are never held accountable, and you rarely get the recognition you deserve. And then there's this: Some genius has decided that My Former Employer warrants an award for "championing work-life balance."
Oh my sainted aunt! Since you all are either personally acquainted with the terrors of that place, or have already heard my endless screeds on the subject, there's no need to say more here. Except the Center for Ethical Business Cultures and WFC Resources can go suck it.
God.
4 comments:
Grrrrr. Please check your hotmail account for my response.
- Crepuscular K
Holy crap. We're alternating between shrill chortles and rivers o'tears (I think it's called hysteria) down here in the cornfields.
Is there no shame?
I'm glad we're not alone. On one hand, I like to feel I've moved on, but this just surpasses surreal.
I shudder to imagine how the folks on the inside are taking it. Jen Oswald's head may explode (they just took away her telecommuting days).
I have to comment on this. HAVE to. But whenever I start to type, I find that my hands shake uncontrollably, and little spittles of condensed rage drip from the corners of my mouth onto the keyboard. My pupils dilate. My hair falls out. My pulse races and I get all clammy.
For now, let's just say that "appalled" has been moved up a notch.
I'm going to write to these people (and by people, of course, I mean motherfucking idiots), because if I punch them in the nose or spray paint foul messages on their cars, they'll have me arrested. Or worse...they'll make me go back to Roseville and explain myself in a staff meeting.
I shudder. Lots.
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