Spit

Someone spit on my car last night.

I'm working the night shift, 3pm to 11pm. So I missed the Monday night football game where my fantasy football opponent's running back (T. Jones) scored two touchdowns to put him ahead by 2 points. I scored the second most points in the league for yet another loss. I lost by half as many points last week.

And when I got out to my car around 11:30, someone had spit on the windshield.

I guess I'm asking for it, parking a Mazda in the lot at a GM plant. A GM plant that closes the assembly section in about six weeks. But I find it hard to believe that my 1994 Mazda really affects the sales around here. Do they think I'm the type to trade in my 15-year old sub-compact in on one of these $40,000 monstrosities with air-conditioned seats?

The plant is closing on me too. I went broke when I moved here two years ago to work at this plant, and I have no idea if I will have a job come February 1st. I hope I do, and I think I will, but nothing is certain. The part of the plant I mostly work in is continuing production, but that doesn't mean I get to keep my job. They could easily fire me and put someone with more seniority (read: kisses WAY more ass) in my spot.

And now I'm working late again tonight. For free of course. Starting November first it's for 20% less actually. When the company I worked for got bought, they reclassified every employee. They say some people got raises and others got pay cuts. Everyone I know got cut, 20% minimum. Some even more. A lot more. It's quite a clever way to reduce staff without having to pay severance. Just keep cutting pay until everyone who can find another job quits. Of course what's left are people who can't get another job, so you're sure to keep all the incompetent people. The very best? They're gone.

I'm so angry I could spit.