I FUCKING HATE BUSINESS CASUAL DRESS CODES.


maybe I should just start writing daily posts based on what I hate. because I hate a lot of things. and I can typically turn them into funny things. also my thoughts of the day seem to be quite popular from the feedback I've been given. so I'll stick with those two subjects for now. and you can let me know what you peeps think.


anyways. back to my hatred.

I work in a bank. so one would assume that because of the professional nature of my employer that a business casual dresscode would be expected. and I can't really argue with that assumption myself. However, I work in a department that NEVER see's customers. in fact, I work the over night shift in a bank where the last thing I would ever see would be a manager, a customer, even the janitors I rarely see. so WHY am I forced into non breathing dress slacks and awkward hanging tops? who knows. my guess is communism. THANKS RUSSIA.

I'm guessing most of you who are reading this have met me on more than one occasion. however, if you haven't, or you just don't remember well then let me remind you of the fact that I am NOT a shinny person. And I'm awkwardly shaped. the best description I can come up with is a bowling pin. yep. I'm shaped like a bowling pin. so not only did motherland Russia ruin it for the normal folks, but they ruined it for me especially since finding work appropriate clothing to fit my awkward mess of a body is hard. and costly. and I'm lazy and poor. so naturally I fall back on a few main staples of wardrobe. like sweater vests and polo's from old navy. which would be fine if I wanted to look like a douchebag all the time.
sometimes, when the bosses are feeling 'nice', they let us PURCHASE the right to wear jeans. yep. we have to buy our rights. usually it goes towards a good cause like united way or the food bank, which I'll support don't get me wrong. it's just the idea of us having to hand out cash monies to the company in order to be comfortable. OH HAI COMMUNISM!
fucking mother land fucking Russia.
and don't even get me started on the fact that I'm forced to not only wear itchy dress pants, but that I also must secure said pants to myself with this torture device called a fucking BELT. because *apparently* me showing off my entire ass is frowned upon. which is stupid if you ask me, I spent 28 years growing that ass, I might as well let it out to roam the streets and try to obtain a following. AM I RIGHT?

it's only day 1 of a 29+ day experiment in my sanity regarding business casual attire. and if today is any indication of the rest of the time I must spend hating my life inside ugly clothing, then we're all in for a real treat.



thought of the day...

deskjet printers don't come with a desk, nor a jet.