Because of my accident, I was taken to the hospital complaining of chest and back pain. My sternum was bruised, and that has healed nicely. My back, however, is another saga. Now I am out of work, and in pain. Even the slightest motion of my back causes some pain, and it looks like I'll be sidelined for a month at least in therapy, according to my doctor. I start Friday. My poor car, I found out the next day, is dead. The airbags deployed, which would cost me more than I paid for the car to get replaced, not to mention the hood is mashed into the engine, the lights are toast, the grill is gone, and the fenders are smashed in.
What's worse? As I have not been on the job for a full year yet, they cannot hold my position for me whilst I am out on disability. I have to go tomorrow and turn in my keys. If they hire someone else before I get back, my tenure at the Manorville branch of Southern Star Bank is officially over.
I went to school for Fine Arts. I'm an accomplished sketch artist, painter, photographer, writer, and designer. I'm gruff, rough, and kinda tough. So how the HELL did I end up working at Fiscal United Bank? The following stories are all true accounts of the day to day insanity that I have encountered as a representative of Fiscal United Bank. Only the names and minor details have been changed to protect... well, to protect me from litigation, frankly.
