January 2007

Sometimes I wish doing the right thing didn't suck balls.

My employer changed payroll companies which means that direct deposit was cancelled until employees renew the service. On Monday I received a live check and didn't look at it until the very last minute. In other words 5 minutes before filling out the deposit slip at the walk-in section of the drive through of my bank. It seemed a little high but I know I've been there nearly five years and I'm making decent money.

When I went to King Soopers to pick up extra groceries with the $25 I earned selling my Sirius receiver I decided to look at the deductions, year to date and all that happy horseshit.

I have a bonus. A bonus of $200.

"What the fuck you fat fuck? It's a bonus!"

It's not that simple. First and foremost remember the bullshit my employer pulled on me back in November that nearly cost me my job? Yeah that one. Part of the conditions of me staying was being constantly monitored for a month under promise of immediate dismissal at the slightest fuckup along with being ineligible for bonuses for 90 days.

I never looked at my December paystub and I'm hoping they didn't give me a bonus because that will pinch me when giving it back. Plus I don't have a copy of the December 5^th paystub. Giving only the $200 back to the company is not going to pinch at all.

Long story short, tomorrow morning I'm going upstairs to speak with the general manager and express my concerns. I'm sure it's an honest mistake especially since only the general manager, her sister and the company president are the only ones who are in on the scheme. Or so I've been told. Yet my inner Admiral Akbar is saying, "It's a trap!"

Reckon if I bring it to their attention and show honesty that it'll regain some of my reputation. Fuckers, my reputation was clean and has always been clean.

Doing the right thing is going to suck balls. Thing is that it beats being caught later down the line and getting fired for that and having no income besides my nest egg.

fyi

I almost didn't write that. I was going to save it for Wednesday's entry once the dust had settled.

In Yer Dreams

First there was a minotaur writhing on the ground, lowing in agony. I couldn't get close enough to see what was wrong from the flailing fists and hooves. Frustrated, I made my way down into this hidden grotto full of hanging moss and damp air. There was a pile of eggs about the size of a basketball. They were ovoid not spherical in shape. My sister appeared and asked me to babysit her kids who were incubating to my right. Soon one of the eggs hatched and the ugliest damned bird emerged into the world. Reckon it was a crow but it might've been a vulture. Instead of a normal bird's head was a crotchety old man's head that reminded me of Jim Carrey's character in A Series of Unfortunate Events. Its nose hooked down into a beak with its pointy, evil chin forming the underbeak. My sister's offspring started yammering, switching between bird squawking and shouting in English, and attracted a respectable audience.