Poverty Is Not an Accident

Poverty Is Not an Accident
Nelson Mandela

Tuesday, January 15, 2008

What's "professional" got to do with it?

You are reading http://livinginthehood.blogspot.com

You can't talk to people like they're pigs and not expect them to become angry, not in the REAL world.

You called me a cheat. You called me a liar. You called me lazy. You said I was making excuses. You called me a victim. You threw information you had about my past at me as personal attacks, out of context and misconstrued. This is the "professional behavior" you choose to model?

Stop maligning my character. I requested REASONABLE ACCOMMODATIONS for an ABLE BODIED/ MINDED employee, let alone someone who's disabled employee, and you're furious!

YOU are the one whose behavior is unprofessional.

I'm a part time employee. You spy on me and expect to have access to me 24/7, whenever you get a whim. I had NO WAY of knowing this was some sort of job requirement, yet the first time I'm out of contact over night, you go ballistic?

You call ME emotional, yet you let your paranoia take over and will NOT talk to me as a peer and a professional, but as some sort of charity case, loser, inferior, servant. You assume your warped perceptions of me are correct, react accordingly, never give the benefit of the doubt (because, of course, your insights are brilliant and always correct, and never need to be examined.)

It was YOUR idea to hire me, not mine. And you complain. It was YOUR idea to pay me in advance every month, not mine. And you complain. It was YOUR idea not to assign me a reasonable work load, but to overwhelm me with unreasonable demands and assign tasks in the middle of the month, not mine. And you complain. WHO is acting like a victim?

It was YOUR idea to demand multiple meetings from me, per day, without pay, at your whim, not mine. It was YOUR idea to IM me and telephone me without asking, "can you talk now?" And you complain. It way YOUR idea to ignore the fact that I have another life besides working for you. And you complain. I had to beg to go to the bathroom, as you droned on and on about a stalker who persecuted you 20 years ago, even though I've heard this story half a dozen times, and it has no relevance to my employment.

I'm too emotional? I was under PERSONAL attack by someone who was calling herself an employer and friend! Turns out, all you are is judge and jury, alright.

It's $250.00 per month, apparantly $3.00/hr., according to what you've said. NO amount of money can get me to bend over and be anybody's bitch. I'd earn more, working at McDonald's than for you, anyway, AND get treated with more respect -- AS REQUIRED BY LAW. Look down your nose at pitiful Donna, working at McDonald's. Right now, she looks smarter than you do.

I didn't resort to personal attacks during this entire, paranoid witch hunt you set up, to put me in my place, terrorize me with irrational, unprofessional and unpredictable attacks and set up an hostile work environment for me. I SINCERELY tried to understand what you wanted, and for THAT you attacked me, as well. I was patient and considerate, and really tried to listen to you. You never granted me the same respect.

But you've earned hearing what I think of you, personally.

At least I have honest emotions. Yours are gone, destroyed in a cloud of THC. If you're so much more evolved than I, why do you have to change your brain chemistry with a mind (BRAIN) altering drug? From what are you hiding?

God, the years I've paid long distance bills to listen to you repeat your long stories, lose your train of thought, sit silently without responding or finishing what you were saying, or repeating "uh....uh......uh" and talk about how smart you are!

EXAMPLE: You didn't want my feedback on this game of yours. You completely ignored anything I said about it, as usual, to rhapsodize about what a wonderful idea you've had -- again. I'm just supposed to sit here and listen to your brilliance, without interruption, conversation, ideas of my own or feedback.

Unless people chant, "D...tte, you're awesome!" you have no use for us mere mortals, unsteeped in marijuana fumes.

You pissed away HALF AN HOUR in that ridiculous, pointless "Chat meeting" of yours, while people talked about reality television and emails! You made ME do it, too! But I wasn't allowed to speak, because I'm "unprofessional!" Uh, huh.

You complain when an employee comes to you with a PROFESSIONAL, REASONABLE request to inform her of her JOB DUTIES, because it's taking up too much of your precious time??? What about MY time?

WHO doesn't value whose time? WHO is acting like a victim? WHO is cheating whom? WHO is lying and stealing from whom? WHO is making excuses? This is complete and utter projection; everything of which you've accused me is your issue, not mine.

If you were ANYBODY else, I'd sue you under ADA rules.

I think you're suffering from paranoid, grandiose dementia -- possibly from DECADES of chronic marijuana abuse. I think that, if you start treating other employees and contractors the way you've treated me, you're flushing your business down the toilet.

I have been a loyal and dedicated employee, friend, advocate of your business, at considerable personal expense. Yes, I've been through HELL in my personal life. That's not fodder for your tyranical tantrums.

How many times have you been raped? How many of your babies have died? How many times have you been homeless -- NOT by choice. How many beatings have you survived? Is your brain damaged from it? How many times have you had to wipe torn genitals with something other than soft toilet paper, because you couldn't afford to buy some, and were too afraid of your neighbors to ask to borrow money?

"Walk a mile in my shoes" doesn't mean that you require ME to walk in YOURS. I can't. I'm honest about that.

I'm quitting because I told you to back off calling me a victim, and to apologize for it. I received no reply from you. I refuse to be treated this way. If that's acting like a victim in your warped, tyrannical universe, so be it. For those of us in the REAL world, there's not enough money in the universe for anybody to buy my dignity.

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