Welcome to the Evil Corporate Empire, would you like paper or plastic?

Today, my depression increased immensely with every inch I came closer to the hiring office at my new place of employment. It feels like defeat. Like this is the best that I can do after 4½ years of college, and 5 years working while going to school. When I sat down to accept my job offer, I noticed that the pay grade they placed me at was fifty cents lower than I had specified, and it’s a $3.50 less than what a recruiter told me my acceptable minimum should be. I questioned the hiring manager about it and she told me that because I don’t have any experience, this is the highest that they could offer me. I became indignant. I told her that I’d have to consider it, because after 4 years of college and 5 years of experience working, that it would be hard for me to accept a job which was paying me less than what I was making in college. She looked at me funny because I had worked several minimum wage jobs, and the last job I had paid me something ridiculous like 2.00 an hour plus room and board. However, my last real job was at the mission and I was making $10, while I was still in college. So therefore, that’s what I consider to be my college job. I was trying to keep my calm and told her that I feel awful about this but I had to call my mom. I’m such a dork, but my mom is pretty savvy and she agreed with me. I should be making more, although it is a part time job so I should take it anyway. Beggars can’t be choosers now can they.

Tomorrow, I have to call this lady and instead of being able to tell her to shove it up her ass, I have to say, “I’d be happy to work for your corporate empire and I can’t wait to be apart of the team!” Blech. Seriously. I’m defeated. I’m defeated by the way corporate America works. I’m aggravated that I had been spoon fed lies about how having a college degree really gives you an advantage in the work place. How, when I graduate I’ll be able to start higher than those who didn’t graduate and it won’t be contingent upon my degree. Horseshit! My thread of hope is a Chiropractic office that doesn’t want to hire smokers because of the smell. My dad smokes, two packs a day, at least one of which is in the living room where I spend a good portion of my time. Soaking in the glorious smell. I reek. Everything I own reeks, my hair my clothes my back pack, computer everything. So, I’m going to try and bath in Febreeze before I walk in. Hoping, that the foul odor doesn’t waft into his nostrils and tickle the hairs.