I woke up early this morning so that I could sell my plasma for gas and food money,and I find myself hesitant to go, even though I am desperate for the cash.
Needles
Waiting rooms
"Doctors" who seriously look like the 21 year old hoodlums who smoke cigarettes outside of high schools while waiting for their sixteen year old girlfriends.
I will go though. I need too. I am again unemployed.
For the last seven months or so, I have worked for a incoming customer service call center for a credit card company.
I had a beige cubicle.
My job was too listen to people yell at me because they felt the credit card was being unfair to them.
This is what I did for eight hours a day.
This was mostly fine until I discovered that maybe the credit card was being unfair. Especially to those who were on the bottom of the economic spectrum.
I am on the bottom of the economic spectrum.
Things came to a tumult when I was placed on a final warning for being too nice to customers (I took off way too many late fees). Part of my "corrective action plan" was to (and I'm serious) "ignore my conscious."
They gave me until the Fifteenth of the month. I told them I'd be done by the Tenth.
So, here I am.
Selling Plasma.
Simply because of principle
Because I could not do unto others what has been done to me.
I hate myself sometimes.
7:20 a.m. - 2008-04-11
Recent entries:
Awake in My Tiny Cage - 2014-11-03
God. - 2014-10-27
I remember me. - 2014-10-17
The Paper - 2014-10-13
A Post About Not Doing Anything - 2014-10-12
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