Fear the Jackassery

It’s not my job that’s the problem. The job itself is fine. It’s easy, even. If everyone with the same job contributes the same amount, the job is actually a pleasure. The problem is that most people don’t contribute, and that, when someone else does try to do something, they’re usually incapable. Both because they never bothered doing it before and because they are fucking morons.

I can’t believe I’m saying this (not least because I sent 214 e-mails yesterday while Shit Sandwich did his patented “look stressed but do nothing and be a dick about it” move for 8 hours), but the worst part of my day isn’t the people who do nothing. It’s to the point where I expect them to do nothing. It’s their thing. I am nothing if not a creature of habit, so I’ve become used to being exploited while the laziest of my co-workers sit around with their thumbs up their asses. Actually, the worst part of my job is the incapable people. The incapable people are the worst part of my day because while I know they’re trying to help, they simply can’t help, and their incessant fucking questions and improbably large number of fuck ups keep me from doing all the work I’m drowning in on a daily basis. You know how people say “there are no stupid questions”? Yeah, they’re wrong. That’s a lie. There are a lot of stupid questions, and the most stupid questions are the ones asked repeatedly because the asker has never bothered to memorize the answers.

I hate being asked the same question over and over again, because it means I have to repeat myself. And if hate being asked the same question over and over again, then I fucking despise repeating myself. If you’re going to go through the trouble of asking, fucking listen to my answer. Understand it. Learn it. I’m not telling you for my health, I’m telling you to impart some motherfucking knowledge and make you look like less of a motherfucking jackass.

You know what it is? I don’t think enough people are afraid to look like jackasses anymore. Society in general has reached a point where any criticism is considered unfair and/or just plain mean, and the people who offer it are demonized. Sure, not all criticism is constructive, but when you run and cry to your boss when someone points out that you’ve made a very obvious error, maybe the problem isn’t that your feelings are hurt. Maybe the problem is that you’re fucking stupid, and maybe your stupidity is wasting someone else’s time. Every time someone asks me a question for the second, fourth, eighth, or thirtieth time, I have to take time away from what I’m doing to answer them. That’s time I need to spend working. It’s also time you’re spending not finding the answer for your fucking self like any self-respecting adult professional would do. Oh, and when I answer one of your questions and you choose to ignore my answer? Motherfucker, it’s on. Your mistake not only costs me the time it took to answer, but now I have to clean up your mess because YOU. ARE. AN. IDIOT. Do you want to be an idiot? Do you want people to think that about you? Don’t you care?

I care. I care a lot. I care about people thinking I’m an idiot or considering me a waste of their time. Simply, I’m afraid to look like a jackass. And that’s what people need. They need to be afraid. They need to fear the jackassery. Not fearing the jackassery makes you one of those assholes who says shit like “dance like no one is watching.” Are you fucking crazy? Of course you should dance like someone is watching. Otherwise you’re just another homeless schizophrenic on the bus who not only dances like no one is watching, but also talks to themselves and smears feces on the window like no one is watching, either.

There’s nothing wrong with being motivated by fear. My fears have motivated me to work hard, be smart, keep money in the bank, and never leave my drink alone with a strange man who has rapey eyes. Fear isn’t a problem, it’s a valid motivator, okay, and don’t ever let anyone tell you any different.

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About erineph

I'm Erin. I have tattoos and more than one cat. I am an office drone, a music writer, and an erstwhile bartender. I am a cook in the bedroom and a whore in the kitchen. Things I enjoy include but are not limited to zombies, burritos, Cthulhu, Kurt Vonnegut, Keith Richards, accordions, perfumery, and wearing fat pants in the privacy of my own home.
This entry was posted in Everyone Else Is An Idiot, I Hate, I Just Can't, Paychecks Are Important, WTF. Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Fear the Jackassery

  1. Carmen says:

    Any chance you can find a work-from-home-office consulting gig?

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