Journals: The Day Job by Lorenzo Moscato
My day job…sucks. It feels akin to being stuck in an endless hole of darkness and despair. Sure, I talk about that kind of thing a lot, Doc, but this is why I’m here, right? This is why I’m in therapy, talking to you, isn’t it? It’s also part of the reason I’ve since given in to that other voice or whatever it is, that kept hi-jacking my journal that you kept telling me I should write, cause it’ll help with those ‘dark thoughts’ and memories that aren’t mine that keep coming up. But today I don’t want to talk about all that. I want to talk about work. I feel like I need to vent my feelings and thoughts about this soul-crushing existence that I lead on a day-to-day basis. Doc thinks it might be good to write about it here, since it should help get some of that despair out of me. That weird voice thinks that another course of action should be taken, but let’s try this first.
For starters, let me explain my job. I’m the director for the IT and Data department for a mental health rehab center. Ironic, isn’t it? Me, someone who is absolutely nuts, works for a fuckin’ mental health center. Gotta figure that I should be able to handle my own demons since there’s tons of people who work here that have given me pointers on how to deal with them, but alas it has not worked. I have a small team under me, one field tech and three data technicians, one of which I had to fire earlier this month, but I’ll get to that in a minute.
My job is pretty mundane; I supervise their work, I take care of minor issues, I deal with suppliers, that kind of thing. Like I said above, I had to fire someone earlier this month. He wasn’t exactly doing what he was supposed to be doing.
His heart was delicious…
What was that? I thought I…never-mind, thought I heard something. Anyway, so I had to fire him for insubordination and other crap. Turns out this shit-show of an employee fucked up even worse than originally thought.
We tore it out with our ivory dagger…
There’s that voice again…fuckin’ weird. So, because this tool fucked up so badly, the rest of my team had to cover for him. That was overwhelming enough, but then a whole lot of shit happens around here that is overwhelming. I feel constricted almost every day. I feel like the whole place puts this kind of pressure on me…that it expects me to perform miracles. And it’s coming from these assholes in upper management that don’t even know what the fuck it’s like in my position or in my department, the sacrifices I’ve had to make to make sure this place keeps running smoothly.
We sacrificed his liver, remember that…?
And then this fuckhead in Human Resources labels me as a bad leader and blames that guy getting fired on my inability to lead or be professional. Can you fucking believe that?
Stop squirming…you’ll only ruin the flesh…
So now here I stand, in front of that same fuckhead. And you, mister high-and-fuckin’-mighty…you just pissed yourself you’re so fucking scared of me.
Do it…
Is it the knife? The subtle curvature of the blade? The handle with the skull, adorned with rubies for eyes? The ivory that is so perfectly white that you cannot even fathom it…? Maybe it’s the mask, made of the same pure ivory? Go on, tell me. Tell me what scares you. TELL ME WHAT YOU ARE AFRAID OF!
DO IT! DOITDOITDOIT!!!!!!!
A shame, really…you’re too frightened to answer. Too afraid to tell me what I can and cannot do. Too pathetic to even fight back...
YES! THE SACRIFICE! THESACRIFICE! DOITDOIT!!!
My blade finds flesh…your heart, my dinner…and with this sacrifice to my one true Lord…I am free of this pit…
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