My New Job

Ugh. To quote the Smiths:

I was looking for a job, and then I found a job
Heaven knows I'm miserable now

It is the shittiest job I have ever had! (Yes, it is worse than working at that naughty bookstore...) I'm file clerking at some law firm (my job agency wrongly informed me that I was working for an insurance company) somewhere in the hell of Long Island. It is the most disorganized ugly mess ever. My job everyday is to search through like 2000 boxes in the basement to find or put files away. The boxes are stacked nilly-willy in 5 different rooms. Usually, for one file I spend about half an hour scouring boxes for number identification, and then if I find it I have to move and lift about an average of five other boxes filled with about 35 pounds of paper each only to open the box in question to find that the file isn't in it. Such a pain! There's no light in one of the rooms. I have to ask to use a bathroom because the doors are all locked and I don't have a key. A few days ago I spent half an hour looking for a pen because they don't hand them out. Oh, and there's no place for me to sit. I have a theory my temp agency placed me here to spite me for my bitching at them. They supersuck! They weren't finding me anything, and I told them that it was ridiculous that this was so - that they make their money by placing me somewhere, blahblahblah.


Other things I hate about this job:

1. It takes me almost an hour in the morning to ride the LIRR train there; and at night I don't get home until an hour and a half after I'm done. It also costs me hour's worth of wages to pay for this trip. Boo.

2. Lots of the females there are overweight and wear see-through pants. Ladies, please! I know you love your preciously-little thongs, but don't make me look at them through the bulges of your skin-colored, skin-tight pants. Anyways, how do these women come to possess such thongs in size-XXXL? Wal-Mart? Shopko? Or do they make them themselves at home? Is there a cottage industry of women attaching maxi-pads to rubber bands? I simply don't know.

3. After being there for only 45 minutes I'm already concocting ways to escape the confines of the office. I feel worse when I realize I still have over SEVEN HOURS of servitude yet to fulfill. Yikes. I see a personal flask of vodka becoming a daily lunch ritual. Hello AA.

4. Too much fluorescent light. It's the way Satan lights up Hell.

5. Lawyers. 'Nuff said.

6. Everyone there talks like Amy Fisher, which is cool for about 15 minutes. Then again, I don't have that lovely of voice either. So that evens out.

7. It's all the way out in Suburbia. I moved to NYC to be in NYC, not some alternate version of Wisconsin suburbia. Hiss!

8. Knowing there will be more stuff to hate as time goes by. It just hasn't come to my attention yet.