The man in the mirror

It’s a little after 2pm and I’m at work, sitting in a cubicle. Normally, I’d either be sleep, in my personal cubicle reading a book or on the toilet. Notice how doing work is not one of the things I would be doing at this time. Seriously. The contracting company I work for has us do yearly self-evaluations. I will never understand the purpose of this, considering how I rate myself will really have no bearing on the size of the “Merit increase” I may, or may not, receive. That’s not to say that they won’t take into account my honest opinion of the quality of work I do, given that it falls somewhat inline with what my supervisor and managers say, but to be totally honest, if there wasn’t already a predetermined format to how I am suppose to do this evaluation, my shit would literally say:

A monkey could do that work I do. But that’s not to say I don’t feel underpaid and mildly over-worked. Everyone(everyone meaning everyone that matters [everyone that matters meaning all the white people in charge]) likes me and I haven’t been on the receiving end of any disciplinary actions. So, let me get that phat raise and let’s continue with this (lopsided) partnership(..until I hit the megamillions or something).

Now of course, everything in parentheses would most likely be omitted from the final draft but, yeah, that’s basically how it would look. I could have completed it within the time frame it took me to think up, type, edit and publish this entry, but whatever. It’s not due for another 2 days anyway. Now, where is my drool catching stack of napkins…

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