I got paid last Friday, and like the countless people out there in the world, I have harnessed the power of direct deposit. I can sleep in on paydays, knowing my fundage is being safely placed in my checking account. I have even discovered the joys of banking online while in my bathrobe.
So I woke up Friday morning and checked my account just to see how much I got paid. Imagine my puzzlement when I saw my deposit was only half it's normal size. Annoyed, I slipped on my shoes and walked to the mailbox (still in my pajamas) and fished around for my check stub.
Opened it...
Studied it...
Let forth a string of profanities.
The bosshole failed to put in my paid time off for my week in Atlanta. He claims he forgot (he does that a lot), but would remedy the situation if I needed the money. I didn't really need the money and could have been more than okay with having it added to my next paycheck, but out of sheer principle, I told the Bosshole to I wanted my money this week.
Now, I have to drive to work to pick up the other half of my paycheck. I think this was done deliberately by the Bosshole in an attempt to flaunt his power.
I can see that my adversary is somewhat clever.
But I have estrogen on my side...
No comments:
Post a Comment