Lunch negotiations

There comes a time in a young woman's life when she has to stand up for all that is right and good and delicious. I don't care WHO you think you are. You do not get to make me work during my lunch break. Lunch is only for eating and decompressing.

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I swear if I had to eat in that place, I would keel over from the sheer physical pressure it would require to keep myself sane. And it wouldn't actually be do-able. I would probably throttle her first.

Dis R-E-S-P-E-C-T

There isn't really much that gets my heart pounding more than being called into the boss' office and being told to shut the door. Because once that door is closed, people have not reason NOT to say some really incredibly offensive things.



Maybe I'm just soft from my days working out on the west coast (where they not only probably coined the phrase "passive-agressive", but they also have positive opinions toward taking "mental-health days"), but I was sure that working in some no-name boutique would at least be a little less militaristic than working at a company where I'm nothing but a number. Harsh.