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Hell's Time Card
 
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Below are the 3 most recent journal entries recorded in Hell's Time Card's LiveJournal:

Tuesday, May 2nd, 2006
3:29 pm
[pariahcub]
$5 suckie suckie...
The saga of my self-pimping begins:

http://baltimore.craigslist.org/crs/156803177.html








x-posted to my journal.

Current Mood: apathetic
Monday, April 17th, 2006
3:03 pm
[pariahcub]
memoirs of an invisible temp
I came in this morning reluctantly, nearly being knocked off my ass by the unknown funk from the employee fridge. Perhaps a relative of Jeffrey Dahmer works here and brought their own "head cheese". What really pissed me off more than I should've allowed it to was when I was speaking with Telisa -one of the only people in this damn office that hasn't treated me like I'm car-jacking their job- and Daneen (the condescending clerk I mentioned before)goes past. I say hello to her when coming over to ask my supervisor a question and she doesn't say anything other than "excuse me" as she squeezes past to retrieve something. I'm not asking her to reach in her handbag and fire off a 21 gun salute into the ceiling tiles; just a freakin' good morning would suffice. Overall, my opinion of her has slid down a greased hill merely days after meeting her into the Valley of Indifference. I've done nothing to this woman, and she acts like I stole Harry Potter's invisibility cloak -which is rediculous since I left it in the glove compartment! Telisa and I had spoken about this overall ambience here last week and everything she mentioned is happening word for word. It's so much like 7th grade all over again, I'm surprised someone hasn't written shit about me on one of the bathroom stalls.


Or have they?

Current Mood: annoyed
Monday, April 10th, 2006
3:41 pm
[pariahcub]
Daneen, the office worker under my supervisor, Carletta, is on vacation and won't be back until next week. She isn't necessarily a bitch outright, but there really ought to be a category for condescending at next year's Olympics. She'd win the gold medal so fast she'd have time to grab a double latte from Starbucks before the other competitors even got in the home stretch. Carletta, on the other hand, is the most laid-back manager I've dealt with in years, and it's all I can do not to sit here with a giant shit-eating grin on my mug. I guess the reason I don't is that there's hardly anything for me to do here. In most cases that would be like letting OJ loose on a group of white women, but the downside is that I'm always a little worried that someone is going to call an impromptu meeting and ask what they're paying Kelly Services for.

While I've been here, I have managed to get a ton of personal online business done, transcribe an old review of a film review I did for the now-defunct The Alternative back in 1998 (just in case one of the ads I've been answering for a film critic wants a sample of my work), and organize the contents of my listening station for Yahoo's MusicLaunchcast (cheaper than an iPod). If I didn't worry that someone might come over to my cubicle at the wrong moment, I'd even start printing up script I'd like to own from drews-script-o-rama.com. Instead, I plan on working on my short story, "Fluff", since my printer at home is out of ink.
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