Lottery Nazi Camp

Tomorrow is the first day of Lottery Nazi camp in Santee. I've never dreaded something so much in my entire life as I do the next three days. I keep thinking, just get it over with--after this you'll be home free.
For three days I must endure the most stupid excuse for employee camaraderie ever imagined. The big boys behind the desks feel as if we need some play time to get to know each other more, to bond and grow in our lottery family. The bullshit sinks deeper...fortunately I'm rooming with possibly the coolest Yank ever. She's from Michigan and she is a pistol--the sharpest in the bunch. Her wit and sarcasm keep me going and I'm sure she will be my saving grace for the next few days. "Screw 'em" is her favorite motto...she's taught me a lot about how to survive in the depressing world of forced social interaction in the workplace.
As we waste our time singing Kum-ba-yah over campfires by the lake, retailers across the state will encounter numerous problems and sales dives because there is no response on the other end of the line as they call in their lotto emergencies...no, we will all be down at the hoedown, roasting marshmallows and rolling our eyes behind the desk jockey's backs.
Sometimes I wonder if the bossmen really do anything besides jack-off and play games...nope, they don't. And they get the big Mercedes.

Time for my favorite quote:

My job basically consists of masking my contempt for the assholes in charge and at least once a day retiring to the men's room, where I can jerk-off and fantasize about a life that doesn't so closely resemble Hell.

Bonjourno my friends, and fare thee well--until Friday, I must enter the depths of Hell itself and fight the evil demons of the state government. I hope to emerge black & crispy after the event's close and will provide photos of the desk jockey head roast around the campfire!