Reckon I'll be hearing that a lot today. Gosh knows I hear it often enough on Sundays. Six hours of telemarketing (she groans loudly and painfully)! I HATE my job! Okay, it pays better and is in fact, much better, than cleaning loos and carting about nasty full bin bags and being treated like your worthless rubbish yourself--okay, still being treated that way--but, I get to sit down and work, and--stay clean--and I do get paid 9 dollars an hour (4 pounds 50p) which is the most I've ever made in my 30 some-odd years of employment...still telemarketing really makes you feel like rubbish. People are so horrendously mean to you--well, they can get away with it, can't they? They don't know you, they can't see you--so my fellow Americans think it's okay to treat us like filth. And, oh yes, they do.
I've dealt with meanness for most of my 40-some-odd years...and God, I'm getting so weary of it all. For the rare few people that are nice to me--dozens more are mean. I don't know if it's my looks, or my body language, or maybe I'm a jerk when I talk, or because I'm a bit...slow, sometimes, but I'm just a walking bullseye. People love making fun of me and being mean to me. I think that's why I've always been alone so much...it's just easier, isn't it? When I was out in the woods and fields, I could just be myself, no worries about being made fun of, or worse. You get tired of hurting, constantly. Giving a choice between being lonely, or being hurt, I just naturally chose lonely. Lonely is okay. Hurt is not--I'd ten times rather be lonely, than be made to feel like absolute rubbish, hands down, no contest.
Another thing that hurts--and even the other day, I experienced this, is being ignored--being made invisible. I hate feeling invisible. So often, I talk--and no one listens. It's often like I'd not said anything at all. People just look at me--through me, and just continue on with what they're doing, like I wasn't even there. That is a terrible feeling. I treasure--no really, I genuinely treasure, a nice conversation. I have so few of them...and, I so often feel awkward about it. Why is it, I can stand in front of dozens--even hundreds, of people and give a presentation, do the tour guide thing, say a speech, recite a poem, or even act (well, very badly act), and not turn a hair...but casual conversation makes me nervous as hell? Sometimes even makes me feel like an idiot, afterwards. No clue.
So I'm off at twenty to nine, this morning, to this wonderful city's one and only modern skyscraper--wow, all of ten floors--for six hours of slogging through phone scripts, talking to people from coast to coast, trying to sell them things they don't want, for a clubs most of them loathe and hate, or have barely even joined and haven't a clue what it's about--or, in the case of some, simply haven't a clue--oh yes, I do get people, they've paid money for a membership, but don't even remember doing it.
Must be nice to be able to throw away money like that. I get people, they get all these magazines coming to their homes--over 100 dollars they've spent I'm guessing for these subscriptions, and they tell me they don't even read them--or even know what half of them are about! WTF? Why buy something you don't read--so the neighbours will think you're literate? Ha! Now I truly know Bush got elected! Idiots.
GoingSomewhere
It's a retirement prezz in a million, truth be told. 
I hope they aren't too mean to you today. As for being invisible, that happens when you get older too - it even happens to famous people too, which I was quite surprised to hear.