Skip to main content

I REALLY NEED THIS JOB, please god I...

Dear Glampa,
I hate my job, passionately, but no one else seems to want to hire me. I'm still working at my first job, and have been there 16 years. I've tried a few different places with no luck. Should I just stick it out in my current dead end job, or keep trying until someone decides I'd be worth their time to train in something different than what I'm doing?
Signed,
Deadend Doris

Dear Double D,
This is similar to something I've dealt with my whole life. I want to be discovered like Lana Fucking Turner, sipping on my cola at Schwab's.
Well, now I'm Lana's Great Aunt Frommet and instead of a cola, it's a whole pizza. And instead of Schwab's, it's my living room couch.
To paraphrase the ever-wise Marianne Williamson, don't wait for someone to produce you, PRODUCE YOURSELF.
What you're dealing with is something you have immeasurable power to fix. Stop waiting for someone to "train" you. Take the reins, sister, and train yourself. Find something you feel passionate about and do something about it. Take a night class, if that doesn't work many accredited state colleges offer online degrees.
I'm not saying it will be quick, or even easy, but if it is truly important enough to you it will be worth the effort.
You have value, and potential. You deserve to be happy and to pursue your goals.

And never forget, like a personal massager, financial aid is your friend. A friend that pays for things.

GLAMP IT GIRL!!!

xoxo
SISSY G

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

More

  More I grew up thinking there had to be more. I desperately needed more. This couldn’t be all that there is. I WAS MORE.  I thought more was elusive to me, because I didn’t deserve more. I wish I had known back then that that’s all it was.  I had never dreamed I didn’t deserve more, and then when I realized that I deserved it I had no idea how to feel it.  What a bitch to be young and extra and not know what to do with it.  Now, I have more.  And I feel less.  And I don’t need more. 

THAT’S what friends are for??

Dearest Glampa!  I have a lot to say to ex-friends, but I'm not petty enough to actually tell them. I have started to write each a letter, a letter I have no intention of ever delivering.  What are your thoughts? Signed,  I’ve got Mail.  Dear Mail,  Let’s unpack!  Without knowing the details, it’s hard to know emotions are and which aren’t petty. But, what’s more important is that they are your emotions. You don’t need to belittle them by calling them “petty” just because your ex-friend might be a cunt. Are you deflecting, or do you genuinely think that you’re responses to your friends are petty? (That’s ok too, sometimes… WE PETTY AND THAT’S ok!)   Having written a poisoned pen letter or two myself in my day, I can definitely attest to their validity as a tool for identifying and transcending emotions and situations I’m finding difficult. I am definitely on “team write the letter.” Say everything you need to, really get it all out. Where you go from h...

Jay Rogers: ALL THAT JAZZ

  All that talent and dysfunction rolled into one, pop a drama desk nomination on top and it was like gay Christmas.   Some of this might seem shocking, or a callous recounting of the facts, but they are told with great admiration and love.  I met Jay Rogers at 88’s piano bar in 1998. He had just returned from a hiatus after having falling onto the tracks of PATH train, breaking his collarbone and nearly dying. We were working upstairs, and he was defiantly sober.    At least for three quarters of the shift.   We were working a treacherously boring and under attended cabaret show upstairs on a Wednesday night at 10:30.  Once I started counting the money, He made himself a margarita and told me not to tell anyone as this was the first drink he’d had since his fall. I don’t know if that was true, but we talked a lot that night and the next day about how that hangover felt. Fast forward five fabulous fucking years of working and laughing,… I was work...