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kittydesadeWelp, I finally quit my 'job'. Thank God. I'm not sure what I'm going to do now for work, but I have an idea of what I'm going to do in the future. And at least I'm out of that goddessforsaken pit of hell.
I couldn't stand that place. Really, I couldn't. It had gotten to the point where I was tempted to beat the crap out of everyone there. As previously mentioned they had a collective IQ that about equaled room temperature. The teacher is insane and a nuisance, and there's only one other person there I would willingly talk to.
A brief summary of my classmates:
There's the WannaBlessedBe next to me yesterday. For some reason she didn't do any muttering under her breath today, so I only have the bf's word that she's a WannaBlessedBe... which, granted, I trust. But I did hear a faint French accent in her voice. French Canadian? Actual French? So. At least she had a slight excuse for pronouncing her name the way she did and insisting it be pronounced like that. She just hasn't learned better.
The Truck Driver who is solely known by that name since I can't think of anything scurrilous to call him is one of those people that, I suspect, would have ended up wanting to 'help the pretty little lady' at some point and would have gotten a kick in the bollocks for his pains. He was loud, he was wannabe-military (which pissed the bf off something good, and annoyed me) and he was wandering around 'helping' everyone in sight. I could have helped him to a testical retrieval operation. I suspect he's overcompensating for something.
There's BrandyCandyMoMandy who was sitting behind me and talking loudly. I didn't mention her before because she struck me as a ditz but hadn't annoyed me yet, but today... oooh the hell that almost broke loose. The teacher (God help him, because if I ever see him again there will be murders) used me as an example of what happens if someone gets a 300,000$ death benefit from the death of.. well, whoever. She said "well, she's a woman, she'll go out and spend it." I felt like hittng her. Especially, it just occurs to me now, as there was a recent widow in the class. I also felt like saying "Well, unlike you, I am not a member of the oldest profession." But I didn't. I settled for glaring, clenched my hands into fists, and kept silent. Again, though, if I had to see her again there would have been murders.
There was the BubbleGum Woman who sat next to me with at least a 5k rock on her finger. Does she actually love the man she's marrying? I doubt it. She's marrying him because it's the appropriate thing to do. She is that prom girl who dated all the right guys, took all the right classes, without an original thought in her head or an ounce of willpower to her name. I suspect she's only working for Primerica because it makes her money, might enlarge her social circle, and because she's stupid enough to think these people are her friends.
There's the teacher, who I will not go into right now.
There's... well, I think that's about it for the really obnoxious people.
Then, in training itself, there's PuppyDogBoy, whom I haven't seen in a week and a half or so and whom I actually vaguely miss. He was amusing.
There's the WASP. Whom I later heard from another woman in the class, the only one I can stand, that he's always like that and it's not just me. He's probably a racist, although he doesn't realize it because racism is bad and somethign that happens to people outside his little bubble. He's very money-centered. He probably won't understand in the slightest why I quit the job. That's okay. My goals don't require him to. (Matrix!Morpheus, I love you to bits.) But he is the epitome of WASPhood, and worse, he doesn't actually respct people at all. And I think part of him knows it. I know he doesn't respect me, I don't know if that's registered or not. And normally, as far as race goes, I don't label myself. I consider myself American, sometimes with an air of cynicism, and that's that. But around him I want to slap that Mexican flag, as he puts it, loud and proud on my chest. Why? Because he keeps talking about 'those hardworking Mexican's as though it weren't some sort of hideous caricature or stereotype.
I wonder if the Mexicans (Are you a MexiCAN, or a MexiCAN'T? *giggle*) in Once ... Mexico were the kind of hardworking Mexicans he had in mind *snerk*
And then there's my boss, the lady with more hair than wit. That's really all that can be said of her. She's someone's kindly old grandmother, I don't harbor any big hatreds for her. I think that if it were just her I could work around her. But.. oh well.
So now I'm out of it. I've got a little money coming in, from the job I worked last week. I've got the names and numbers of some people in UC. In a couple hours I'm going to call home, tell Mom I quit the job, and call her in a couple of days with the information about UC. Because I am going back to school. I've put this off long enough. I'm going to go back to school, I'm going to get my teaching certificate, and I'm going to become a damn teacher. Because that's what I wanted to do in the first place, and this place needs teachers. Everywhere needs teachers. Good teachers, strong teachers. And I think I can be one.
And I've put that off long enough.
I couldn't stand that place. Really, I couldn't. It had gotten to the point where I was tempted to beat the crap out of everyone there. As previously mentioned they had a collective IQ that about equaled room temperature. The teacher is insane and a nuisance, and there's only one other person there I would willingly talk to.
A brief summary of my classmates:
There's the WannaBlessedBe next to me yesterday. For some reason she didn't do any muttering under her breath today, so I only have the bf's word that she's a WannaBlessedBe... which, granted, I trust. But I did hear a faint French accent in her voice. French Canadian? Actual French? So. At least she had a slight excuse for pronouncing her name the way she did and insisting it be pronounced like that. She just hasn't learned better.
The Truck Driver who is solely known by that name since I can't think of anything scurrilous to call him is one of those people that, I suspect, would have ended up wanting to 'help the pretty little lady' at some point and would have gotten a kick in the bollocks for his pains. He was loud, he was wannabe-military (which pissed the bf off something good, and annoyed me) and he was wandering around 'helping' everyone in sight. I could have helped him to a testical retrieval operation. I suspect he's overcompensating for something.
There's BrandyCandyMoMandy who was sitting behind me and talking loudly. I didn't mention her before because she struck me as a ditz but hadn't annoyed me yet, but today... oooh the hell that almost broke loose. The teacher (God help him, because if I ever see him again there will be murders) used me as an example of what happens if someone gets a 300,000$ death benefit from the death of.. well, whoever. She said "well, she's a woman, she'll go out and spend it." I felt like hittng her. Especially, it just occurs to me now, as there was a recent widow in the class. I also felt like saying "Well, unlike you, I am not a member of the oldest profession." But I didn't. I settled for glaring, clenched my hands into fists, and kept silent. Again, though, if I had to see her again there would have been murders.
There was the BubbleGum Woman who sat next to me with at least a 5k rock on her finger. Does she actually love the man she's marrying? I doubt it. She's marrying him because it's the appropriate thing to do. She is that prom girl who dated all the right guys, took all the right classes, without an original thought in her head or an ounce of willpower to her name. I suspect she's only working for Primerica because it makes her money, might enlarge her social circle, and because she's stupid enough to think these people are her friends.
There's the teacher, who I will not go into right now.
There's... well, I think that's about it for the really obnoxious people.
Then, in training itself, there's PuppyDogBoy, whom I haven't seen in a week and a half or so and whom I actually vaguely miss. He was amusing.
There's the WASP. Whom I later heard from another woman in the class, the only one I can stand, that he's always like that and it's not just me. He's probably a racist, although he doesn't realize it because racism is bad and somethign that happens to people outside his little bubble. He's very money-centered. He probably won't understand in the slightest why I quit the job. That's okay. My goals don't require him to. (Matrix!Morpheus, I love you to bits.) But he is the epitome of WASPhood, and worse, he doesn't actually respct people at all. And I think part of him knows it. I know he doesn't respect me, I don't know if that's registered or not. And normally, as far as race goes, I don't label myself. I consider myself American, sometimes with an air of cynicism, and that's that. But around him I want to slap that Mexican flag, as he puts it, loud and proud on my chest. Why? Because he keeps talking about 'those hardworking Mexican's as though it weren't some sort of hideous caricature or stereotype.
I wonder if the Mexicans (Are you a MexiCAN, or a MexiCAN'T? *giggle*) in Once ... Mexico were the kind of hardworking Mexicans he had in mind *snerk*
And then there's my boss, the lady with more hair than wit. That's really all that can be said of her. She's someone's kindly old grandmother, I don't harbor any big hatreds for her. I think that if it were just her I could work around her. But.. oh well.
So now I'm out of it. I've got a little money coming in, from the job I worked last week. I've got the names and numbers of some people in UC. In a couple hours I'm going to call home, tell Mom I quit the job, and call her in a couple of days with the information about UC. Because I am going back to school. I've put this off long enough. I'm going to go back to school, I'm going to get my teaching certificate, and I'm going to become a damn teacher. Because that's what I wanted to do in the first place, and this place needs teachers. Everywhere needs teachers. Good teachers, strong teachers. And I think I can be one.
And I've put that off long enough.
