I just got the call. I’ve been let go.

My cellphone will go away shortly. My access to servers and what-not will go away. Oh, yeah, that means this website and a number of others hosted on this server will probably go away. That includes my email account, as well as others’ email accounts. If things suddenly vanish… you’ll know why.

And I have no good prospects, and I do not look good on paper, and I have no idea what I’m going to do now.

Wish me luck. I could certainly use some, for a change.

You don’t make a violent angry scene at the workplace without facing the consequences later on. At least, this is the case if you’re a responsible citizen of the world, which is a status I continually strive for.

I was just asked, politely, not to show up at work tomorrow while the Powers That Be consult with Corporate HR about the problem that is yours truly. Before anyone gets angry at… anyone, really, please keep in mind that they’re within their rights to do this much. I don’t know what sort of action they want to take next, though, and that’s what scares me silly. If I’m lucky it’ll be some docked pay and a mark on my permanent record. If I’m not… well, I’m trying very hard not to dwell on the worst-case scenario. Very.

Of course, eventually one of my rare flashes of mindless rage had to get me into more trouble than my natural talents and normal good nature could get me back out of, huh? Maybe this is the time I finally have to pay the piper. It would just figure, wouldn’t it? Still… I hope not.

I like my job, dammit.

My workday lasted a bit less than two hours. I only interacted with one person in anything more than a “hi, how are you” fashion in that time.

I thoroughly lost my temper at the end of it, which is why I’m home right now.

If you’re going to lace every conversation we have with references to how important you are, how much work you have to get done, and how you need your desires fulfilled right now and exactly to specification, don’t be surprised if my agitation levels rise consistently throughout our interaction. This is especially true if you blow me off twice, when I come over to work on your problem, because you’re on the phone and can’t possibly just move out the way the two feet it would take for me to get at your keyboard and mouse.

Obviously, someone’s time is more valuable than mine, eh? I have nothing else to do but: Sit and wait, put up with a stream of comments about how much work you have to do and how the problem I’m waiting to fix is such a bloody inconvenience for you, and leap into action when it’s convenient for you to finally get the hell out of my way.

I’m there trying to help, goddammit. The least you can do is respect my time, and not give me flack about how I go about my job or try to impress me with how bloody damned important you are and how much work you have to do. You know what? There are a couple hundred other people in the building who also have lots of work to do.

Oddly enough, I’m one of them.

Sorry about your wireless mouse. I’m sure you’re such an important person that you can get a new one ordered, post haste.