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...
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Although the events of this blog contain certain truths, every attempt has been made to protect patient confidentiality. Names, dates, location, and identifying features have been changed or fictionalized for that reason. The author reserves the right to embellish to preserve people's confidentiality. All content is copyright of the author. Please do not reproduce or copy in part or whole without the expressed written permission of GB, RN.