Pissed off in Newport Beach

Beware sensitive ears. Beware.

Dear Company my husband works for,
I did not move all the way out to California, so that I would never get to spend a whole weekend with my husband. You see, I am one of those girls that doesn't have to have a "girl's night out" away from her husband because I actually like him. He is my best friend whom I can tell anything to even if it is bitch about him. Even if I did care for a "girl's night out" I only have two friends out here that I don't work with, and I really don't make it a habit of hanging out with them because honestly, I have a really hard time liking other girls. They really get on my nerves. Anyway, when you call and tell him that he has to go to work at the spur of the moment, it really fucking pisses me off. I am stuck at home alone with the dogs. They don't talk back when I talk to them. They just look at me like I am nuts. I have nothing to do except for sit and stare at this stupid computer because I cannot afford cable at the moment. All of the money that we would use to pay the cable has to go into his gas tank to drive to and from shows. Oh and by the way thank you so much for not reimbursing mileage anymore. Let me tell you, it really helps out financially. You could at least pay for the tanks of gas that we are forced to pay for when he has to drive over a hundred mile. He does work for you, and since he is salary I am guessing that he doesn't make near as much as he should. I really think he makes less than me an hour which is sad because I don't make diddle squat compared to all of these Rite Aid union workers, and I am topped out at my position.

Fuck You Company!
Jenn