(I speak as I want)
I'll talk about my case to me that I have because I know him well (and I likes me so I talk about myself it makes me happy). How Pooka, WC Girl first choice is to find a vocational training?
Already
because the toilet ... that's what. Well, it's not so obvious if not all courses are full of ex-employees of fast-eaten. Because once inside the toilet * "into my sect, little insect * the lobotomy mass begins. And everyone is getting screwed. Even me, it said. So we moutonnifié the last degree, and we merrily bleating in unison. Staggered hours and variable (from one day to another, from one week to another) are involved in the mold of the neuron. After several months, we are disgusted with life, but they hate you just think that, we only talk about this. And to steer. But in 90% of cases, nothing happens because we did not have the energy to try something else.
To this must be a huge kick in the ass, or an electric shock. I check the option electroshock. Last year, rotten hole / infected in the eye, go direct to the box without touching the hosto 20,000 euros and sick leave for a month. When thee
see anything and you can not sleep (because you care every hour at night), you've time to think. At your next conquest the world, torture extremely sophisticated for anyone you swell (you can not sleep, you're a little cramped). Eventually, you end up realizing that fucking mess, kestufou in this shitty job? Yeah awareness is vulgar to me.
You begin to see things a little better but you're always off (easy to hurt interns), so, hop, making information inquiry, the Grail finally appears on your screen ( and bottom of your retina melting). Three magic letters: CIF.
For individual training leave.
But that's another story ...
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