“Not My Day” by Keith James

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I totally forgot that I put this recipe from IFTTT on this account!

It’s rather timely that I should find it now.

The day I had first heard this song we had our bit of snow and even though we are in Canada and it snows every single year the first few bouts of it and it’s like all of Canada seems to forget snow and a 15 minute commute becomes an an hour and 15.

I had been prepared, despite being only twenty minutes away I left my home an hour and a half early. I was quite sure I was walking into yet another one on one meeting in which my boss would either berate me for not doing something that she insisted I did not do a month, a week, a day ago, or she would pile on three months of data entry that she had forgotten to mention was part of my job and expect it done in a week with no over-time permitted, or it could be to discuss how despite her announcement to an entire floor of co workers that I was untrustworthy it’s my fault I’m not well received by them and that maybe I needed to take a good hard look at myself.

So there I am plugging along with the asshats on the road, almost at my destination, trying to prepare myself for the ridiculousness about to come and this song comes on. His day is horrible, from dropping his cell into his coffee, to getting caught leaving work early, to dropping pancakes on his bed. He’s having a brutal day and it makes me laugh, quite hard actually.

As I’m howling at his misfortune two thoughts ran through my mind, 1. Hey at least I don’t have it that bad. 2. Laugh..wow I hadn’t done that since I started this job and the nightmare began.

I walked into work only to be pushed, literally by my boss’s hand, into an office where the Director and another women, both whom I had never met proceeded to fire me, without cause, but yet gave a list of complete and utter bullshit as to why I was “not a right fit”

My boss not only took credit for work I did but lied incessantly to have me fired. Outrageous lies that anyone going over the plethora of recommendations I’ve received throughout my career would see are the polar opposite of what any employer would say about my work ethic.

I got back into my car, my day being totally free and as Mr. James sang about his horrid day I felt like I was right there with him and we understood each other’s misery. It was comforting in a bizarre way.

Secretly I still felt better off…I didn’t have maple syrup on my bed sheets.

As for my boss it looks like I have a solid human rights violation case. Maybe after its over I’ll send her a copy of Mr. James song, she’ll need it.

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