Don't Be A Complete Tool

One Down, One To Go

2011-11-07T20:10:00.000-07:00

This year has brought so many changes for me in my professional life. I'm now working for a new company (same office, different company), under a different set of standards and the rules seem to change daily. It's been stressful in a way that I never expected.

One change that I will not be whining about:

MisManager is leaving.

She's leaving! She's leaving! She's leaving, leaving, leaving!!

I have suffered this woman's insanity for 5 years now and, while I will miss her ability to...

...um...

...be absent from the office most of the time, I will not miss:

Sudden outbursts of paranoia. Like chalking up being the last person in the office to know about something to the fact that "everyone is intentionally excluding you" and "everyone's afraid to talk to you" and not to the fact that "you are always fucking gone." Good call.
Getting in trouble for the stupidest shit ever. Even though I now have bragging rights as the only person on the planet who's been in trouble for calling a maintenance guy to ask him when he's going to install our office equipment. (Completely overlooking the fact that managing the operation of the office is exclusively my job.) There's always that.
Being asked to document conversations that I was not a party to. I don't. Then I get in trouble for not providing the necessary documentation when the time comes. I'd rather get in trouble for that than phonying up documentation.
Having work delegated to me so that I can delegate it to my people. Without any instruction whatsoever. Or deadlines. Then, as you probably guessed, I get in trouble for not making sure my employee had it done on time or correctly. But, you're right, I should know to ask 40,000 questions. I'm that eager to take on her shit work.
Having important joint meetings bumped for, seriously, anything else she decides to do. Our annual performance reviews, for instance, were 2 months overdue this year. One of the things they were getting bumped for involved her 17-year old daughter's school schedule. As in, MisManager had to go meet with the counselors to decide what classes her daughter needed to attend. Let her be a grown up and figure that shit out on her own lady.
Having important joint meetings interrupted by personal phone calls. Your college-aged son doesn't really need to check in with Mommy every day does he? Oh yes, he does. My bad.
Having important joint meetings interrupted by complete strangers. No, she was really one of those assholes who can neither find their "Do Not Disturb" button nor ignore a ringing telephone. One phrase that will haunt me to my grave, "I don't know who this is. I'd better pick up." Seriously? It could be a wrong number for all you know.
Having my staff interrogated like accomplices to murder whenever I'm out of the office for the day. I come back to half the staff talking like they did their best not to give away the secret location to my cubbyhole full of dead baby hearts. I've never met a human being more afraid to just ask their own employee to explain the work they do. She (in all seriousness and less gruesomeness) makes my employees feel like I've done something wrong and they've ignorantly helped me do it. I have to work very hard to keep assuring them that I'm someone that they can trust.
"Irregardless." The word is regardless. Irregardless is, if you're counting it as a word even, a double negative. You're actually negating what you say when you use your pet colloquialism. For the love of God, please stop.
Having to find a way to make sure that everyone gets included in everything no matter how impossible that task actually is. Sometimes, someone needs to stay behind or get left out. Or they just don't give 2 shits about participating.

It's not to say that the new manager won't have their own set of infuriating quirks that I'll have to learn to live with. I'm not that naive. I'm just so glad that this is finally over.

Now if I can get lucky enough to be rid of my other problem...

Interpreter Needed. Inquire Within.

2011-09-22T20:30:00.000-07:00

This banner has been posted up on a local furniture store for the last 3 months. I am now convinced that there is something I'm missing. If anyone can explain this to me, I would be super appreciative:

Seriously? Anyone have a clue?

Stop! Just Kidding...Go Right In

2011-09-20T20:26:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, I introduced you all to the newest member of my team. This guy:

If ever there was a person who belonged on display in this blog, it's him.

We don't demand much from our security personnel. Hang out and wait for shit to happen, really. It's a pretty sweet gig. Walk around the building a bit. Chase away panhandlers. It's a breeze.

Even if they don't do any of that, our absolute core expectation: keep unauthorized persons from entering our secured area. As basic as that might seem, and as hard as it is to believe, this was the source of today's confusion.

Before coming to work for us, Dory (I have settled on this....it was the most demeaning, so naturally, the winner) used to work for a hospital. I find it hard to believe that someone would have to tell him not to let junkies into the pharmacy.

Scratch that, I would have found it hard to believe before today.

We have one secured area. 90% of our clients never need to go in there. When they do, we need to make sure that we've properly cleared a business purpose for their access and an employee needs to account for them the whole time they're in there.

Except today. When 90% of our clients got into that area by simply pointing toward it and saying, "I need to go in there." Literally verbatim.

Psssst! Dory....

There's a lock on that door for a reason, asshead!

If we wanted the entire city of Phoenix traipsing through this area, we would just prop the door open and put out a Welcome mat. You are doing the exact opposite of what any person with an I.Q. above 'drooling and diaper change' level would assume. In fact, if you were missing one more brain cell, you would be a Hilton sister.

Ahhhhh.....

Yes.

I missed this.

Checking Back In

2011-09-19T21:04:00.000-07:00

I have been checked out for too long. I got tired of writing in circles about the frustrating times at work. I thought that, if I stopped giving myself a passive outlet for diffusing the majority of my anger, that I would learn how to focus it fully on what really matters: setting things right around the office.

Not so much.

What's that old maxim? You can lead a horse's ass to water....or something. For all my trouble, I am now an expert with reasoning with brick walls.

For best results, create your own audience of Papaya Guys.

So, I'm back with some of your old favorite characters: MisManager, EmployeeVonMunchausen and Jailbait. Over the last few months, there have been some new additions to the happy family. Meet:

SchoolGirl
I seriously love this girl to death. MisManager is hellbent on hating her to death. She goes to school on days and during times when MisManager wants her there the most -- no matter when her classes are.

CoffeeBitch
He's a good dude. He probably deserves a better nickname, but I dubbed him this in his first post appearance. He's studying to be a doctor right now. Even after he gets his M.D., though, he will be Dr. CoffeeBitch. That's how this works.

TruckStop
An unpolished girl with a heart of gold. 10k gold. I think I like her best, because she's the only person I've ever met that can out-awkward me in a conversation. That is extremely hard to do.

Goldfish (or 50-First-Days ... I haven't decided yet)
Our new security guy. He has been on the job for over a week now. I have explained his job to him every single day. At least twice. He still doesn't get it. I wonder if he just likes the attention or if he's related to Dory.

Maybe his new nickname will just be Dory. I'll choose by the next time I have to write about him.

Which should be tomorrow.

Note To Self

2011-08-01T19:07:00.001-07:00

When a Cracked writer issues this warning...

Warning: Don't watch this video. Just fucking don't.

Read more: 6 Progressive Parenting Fads You Won't Believe Are Legal | Cracked.com http://www.cracked.com/article_19344_6-progressive-parenting-fads-you-wont-believe-are-legal.html#ixzz1Tphf23bD

...pay attention.

I made it through 1:11 of this video before I couldn't look anymore.

Oh, and I highly recommend you don't watch this...unless you're a boxer and you need to psych yourself out to pound the shit out of someone. Then it's okay.

You Dirty Bastard

2011-05-30T09:52:00.000-07:00

This whole last week, I've been pissed off because Blogger wasn't working. I kept getting an error message after logging in. I was so sure Blogger had another meltdown. Then, as time passed and there was no change, I thought, "I wonder what would happen if I tried to log in using a different browser..."

Fuck you Chrome. If you don't like my blogs, you could at least have the decency to say something to my face. We coulda talked this out like adults. Hell, I'm stumped for material half the time anyway, so you and me, we coulda been partners.

But no.

You made your choice to fuck me over instead. I don't even think I have anything to do with this. I think you're just jealous because Blogger is getting more attention than you. You know what? You're both mediocre Google products. That's a stronger common tie than Breakfast at Tiffany's. You need to get over this and start talking to each other again.

Riffing

2011-05-21T16:00:00.000-07:00

There are times when it's hard to remember why Mr. Awesomeness and I work well as a couple. Then situations like today occur and I know, without a doubt, the tie that binds us together:

We're both immature assholes.

This works when times are good or bad. If we get pissed at one another, there is no depth to which we won't sink in order to dig at one another (which is why we typically choose to ignore one another completely -- it's just better that way). When we're happy with one another, we gang up on other people. Kind of like a Mega Dickhead Power Ranger.

I ordered some pizza today and the dude dropping them off was way....awkward. Our Asshole Super Powers hone right in on that and it turns into the makings of our inside joke of the week

Awkward Pizza Dude: Well, looks like I've got a real feast for you!
Awesomeness: Yep, it's a lot of pizza. (Did he just call me fat?)
Awkward Pizza Dude: Are you going to be okay or do you need some help with that?
Awesomeness: Uh....I'm fine, thanks.
Awkward Pizza Dude: Well then, have a great weekend!
Awesomeness: You too!
**door closes**
Awesomeness: Oh no! Help me hunky pizza man!! This pizza is sooo heavy and I need a man to help me carry it.
Mr. Awesomeness: Sounds like someone's seen too many bad pornos. He might have some delivery guy fantasies.
Awesomeness: *bow-chicka-wow-wow* You know, the pizza's not the only thing that's hot around here.
Mr. Awesomeness: Why don't I help you over to the counter there, miss.
Awesomeness: I wish there was a way I could thank you pizza guy....

This will go on for an entire week.

Thank you pizza delivery dude. I wish I could repay you. Oh wait, I did. I gave you the tip.

Of Course You Like Him....

2011-05-09T20:56:00.000-07:00

Round two of the interviews occurred today. There were two candidates for this round. I was very optimistic about one of the applicants, because he seemed fantastic on paper.

Notice my careful wording.

We interviewed Mr. Amazing first. He was very charming. He smiled in all the right places and gave us great answers to all of our questions. He absolutely lived up to my expectations.

So why won't I consider hiring him?

He made it clear in the interview that he would be completely dissatisfied if he's not promoted in 6 months to 1 year. He even reinforced that sentiment by explaining that he left the last job he had in our field because they wouldn't promote him.

We had to wonder why. He claimed that the department he wanted to work for was very exclusive, but that didn't quite ring true, in the way that we felt he was leaving something out. The industry I work in is immensely diverse. It's not unusual to have a few different career paths in mind. Personally, I have 2 different roads I want to eventually go down. I know that I'll get my opportunity to do that in the next 2-3 years.

There was no way that Mr. Amazing was going to be fast-tracked into a position he wasn't ready for. I'm a tough manager to work for in that respect. Heck, Jailbait worked for me for over 2 years before he got his first promotion. This kid would be quitting before I could get his business cards ordered.

He was a peach compared to the second interview though. I was lukewarm about interviewing this one, since he had an application that my 5-year old could have written. You know, attention to detail is very important. I tend to put my word snobbery aside when it comes to interviews, because not everyone is a writer. Most of our communication is verbal; so long as you've got great verbal skills, you'll be fine. Besides, they're working for someone who practically pees herself over the opportunity to proofread.

No, really. Sometimes that's my proudest moment all day.

"Tell me about a time when you've had a positive influence on the actions of another person."

I guess in church.

"Did you join a youth group, or a counselling group....?"

Yeah, I work with kids.

"Well, that's terrific! Is there one particular moment that you're proud of?"

There's one kid that we hang out with a couple times a week. Ball games and movies and stuff.

Every question turned into at least 5 with this guy. So verbal skills were a big time strike out.

MisManager and I both agreed on the first guy. We couldn't give him what he was looking for. I didn't mind passing on him, though, since he also explained he had his apps in at a couple of different companies. He will be a good addition to their staff.

I expected that the "after talk" on the second candidate would be a short one. The kid can't talk, he can't write. Don't get me wrong, we were treated to a 30-minute air drum solo. (Yeah, the guy's actually a drummer. We asked.) He kept an even rhythm the whole time. I will give him that.

MisManager: Oh, I thought he was really sweet. I liked him a lot.
Awesomeness: I have to disagree. He could barely talk to us. I think he would be out of his league in a job that required hours of face-to-face contact with clients.
MisManager: Well, he's a lot like Jailbait and you like him!
Awesomeness: I agree that he has the same "quiet" sensibilities, but Jailbait is very well-thought out and actually speaks very eloquently. This candidate is just not skilled enough in communication to succeed in this position. The difference between him and Jailbait is that Jailbait has the amazing ability to make the most of the few words he uses; and as for this guy, listening to him talk is painful. I felt bad for asking him questions. (No really. It sounds like every word is pulled from his throat with a pair of rusty pliers.)
MisManager: I disagree with you. He reminds me so much of my son. He's quiet too, but he's sweet and he has the best sense of humor...

So there it is. You're getting pissy because I won't hire the kid that reminds you of your son. Well, lady, if your son interviewed that poorly too, I wouldn't hire him either. If the guy we had in front of us was a girl, you wouldn't even be considering it.

She's making me sleep on a decision I've already made.

Well, Thanks For Showing Up....I Guess

2011-04-28T20:27:00.000-07:00

I just wanted to mark yesterday as a special occasion: the day MisManager trusted me to do my job.

She's on vacation this week and we had a couple of interview candidates sent our way. I had initially told the recruiter that we would wait on the interviews until MisManager got back into the office, because NO WAY should I be left alone to...do my job. Without hand holding. No friggin' way. I mean, I've only been interviewing since 1996, so what the fuck would I know?

End immature snarkfest.

When MisManager called, because she checks her email on vacation, she said, "You go right ahead and get these out of the way. I'll call them back in if you like them." What? She must be having an awesome vacation.

The first interview I did yesterday was possibly one of the worst I've ever had. This would include the girl I interviewed who mumbled under her breath and ended every sentence with, "Yeah...." What was the deal with her?

This one:

1. Snapped at me for calling her cell phone when I called for the interview. Her point was that she was busy speaking with a client at work. MY problem was that she answered her fucking cell phone while trying to handle a client. Strike one.

2. When I asked her to tell me about herself and to describe her experience a bit, she launched right into a story about how she used to work for my company about 15 years ago (not on her resume, by the way; I know resume experts may recommend only recent experience, but if you're a former employee, you may want to mention that). Then she went into an awkward bout of the "Hey, Do You Know So-And-So? Game." I didn't. She wasted about 5 minutes of my time doing this. Even after I tried to move the conversation along by telling her the 2 people I did know from her old department. Strike two.

3. She has listed on her resume one job for the last 7 years, but also 8 other jobs with timelines that coincide with this job. Each of the subsequent jobs were appeared to last approximately 4-9 months. When I asked if the dates were correct, she said yes. So is this first job your primary job and the others have been second jobs? Yes. Are you planning on making this job a secondary priority? "Well, if you can't offer me full time job after about a month or so, then I'm going to have to look for something else." Wow. Lady, I'm not even going to offer you this part time job, so no worries there. Strike three.

4. I know that a lot of people get frustrated by interview questions, but I ask about 10 of them anyway. I need to see you think on your feet. I also want to know that you're open enough to talk about yourself. My interview style is really easy, so I try to make it seem more like a conversation than an interrogation, but this lady was just not giving up the goods no matter what I did.

Describe a time when you were able to be a positive influence on the life of another person. Her response: "Well it's very important to be positive at work. Always. I mean, when you come in to work and you're negative, it rubs off on everyone else." Well, okay, do you remember a time when your positive attitude helped someone in your life? *Blank stare.* Obviously the answer is no.

I'd like to hear about what frustrates you about your current position or a recent job you've had. What is it and what have you done to alleviate your frustration? Her response: "Oh, I don't know how to answer that. Nothing about my current job frustrates me and I don't remember being frustrated in any of my more recent positions." You ma'am, are a fucking liar. Capital L. Little i, little a, little r, period.

What is the worst communication problem you've ever experienced? "Not communicating." Uh hunh....can you tell me about that time? What happened and what did you do in that situation? "Well, there isn't a specific time, but when your team isn't communicating, then things just don't work out. You know what I mean?"

I just wanted to hit my head against the table by this point.

Interview tip: Get your shit straight before the interview so you can answer the fucking questions. I understand that there are some people who are not great at thinking on their feet. I'm one of those people. I want to give good answers, so I like time to think, but that's not completely reasonable in an interview. I actually have to practice what my answers to these types of questions would be. That way, I am already in the right frame of mind going in, so it's less likely I'll get tripped up.

I'm not exactly sure if that was her problem. She did tell me at one point that she really couldn't think of a way to answer the question, "What was the best decision you've made in the last 6 months and why?" I understood, because I couldn't tell you on the spot either, so I gave her a pass on the question and went back to it later. Her response, "I reorganized my files." That was just the answer I needed to put my entire head on fire. Thanks.

Today I called the recruiter to give her feedback and couldn't immediately find the right words. I started out, "Well, she comes across as kind of...." The word I was looking for was unresponsive, but I couldn't quite spit it out. Recruiter guesses, "Unpolished, unprofessional, unfriendly, not ready at all to work with people?"

OH MY FUCKING GOD!! If she felt that way, then why the hell did she send this woman over to waste my time? She is supposed to be the "quality control." That's why she does a pre-screening interview, so we only (theoretically) get candidates that fit what we're looking for.

Then, as if I wasn't already set to throttle her, she says, "Well, keep in mind that, if you don't make your selection and get a new hire processed by May 13th, you're not going to get a chance again until after June 1st.

Then stop sending me bullshit applicants, asshole.

Please Help Us All

2011-04-26T05:59:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, about a block away from my children's preschool, I saw a police officer had pulled over a woman who had to be about 90 years old. I felt bad for the officer, I'm sure it sucks to pull over sweet-looking grannies that look like your Nana. I was also sure that the lady was probably safer in the parking lot than behind the wheel of a car, so I was glad that she was off the road as we passed by with our small children.

I know, stereotyping old drivers will earn me an express ticket to Hell. Whatever.

In case anyone feels bad for the old lady in the story, just check this out, because this is the same old lady stopped at a red light after we dropped the kids off:

I'm sure that the police officer could have made a day of following her around town.

The Week From Hell

2011-04-21T21:17:00.000-07:00

As adults, we make an array of choices every day. One of these is whether or not we'll show up to work. As a manager, I have a strong opinion about this: if you choose not to show up for a day, I'm not going to give you crap; however, if you miss too many days, I'll eventually work toward firing your ass. I think that's fair.

MisManager's philosophy on calling in sick: if you choose to not show up, you will be hounded by phone call or text with whiny guilt trips. When it comes down to actually doling out disciplinary action for missing too many days, she prefers to excuse their behavior. It makes my life a living hell, because we set a precedence for everyone else when we do that.

For example, EVM, rightfully, should have been fired 3 years ago. When it really gets down to it, though, MisManager has been dodging the necessary steps to take this action by postponing write ups and giving multiple "final" written warnings.

On Monday and Tuesday, Jailbait (I know, not EVM this time) has called into work with some sort of stomach virus. I know this thing is working its way around because my daughter and grandma had it. It's pretty vicious and it's easy to mistake for food poisoning.

The current issue with Jailbait is that a) MisManager doesn't believe he's actually sick and b) he's out of sick time for the year already, because of a stomach flu in January. Why she doesn't believe he's sick is beyond me, but she believes a lot of crazy things that have no basis in reality (as I'm about to illustrate for your entertainment).

The last few days, I have been caught in a nightmare role as a middle man in a lunatic conspiracy plot. It's making me want to crawl under a rock. Or grab an icepick. Or cry for my mommy. I don't know at this point, but this has been the longest week ever.

Monday

Stuck in traffic for 3 hours with two fighting preschoolers because some jackass pretended to pull a gun on cops on a freeway overpass.

Oh, and I had a half pot of coffee before I left the house.

So did I want to hear MisManager's crackhead theories about how Jailbait should be handling his illness like a man and coming to work regardless. Or "irregardless" as she likes to say? (Trust me, that can be it's own post right there.) Did I want to stop myself from choking her when she was spewing this garbage in front of everyone else?

Do I have to tell you that the answer to both those questions are, "no?"

The finale of the impromptu free performance was MisManager asking me if I wanted her to call Jailbait to tell him that he needed to come in the next day "irregardless" of how he felt. I know that the alternative to her calling is me calling, so my answer is "Uh, yeah. You can take care of that one."

He didn't answer her call, so MisManager was seething for the rest of the day that he was "dodging her." While I was on my way home, he sent me a text asking what she wanted. Oh, brother. Which part of the shit sandwich am I on this one?

Anyway, so just said something vague, like, "She wants to talk to you about tomorrow." That was all.

MisManager calls me twice while I'm working out and then again when I'm trying to choke down a 15 minute dinner before I have to put my kids to bed.

What did he saaaaaaay? Is that all he said? What else did he say?

I guess when I'm stuffing my face with food, while a screaming 2-year old is strapped to my leg, I sound a lot like I'm holding back a conniving conversation with a backstabber. I'll have to work on that.

Tuesday

Jailbait called in again. The whole conversation:

Jailbait: Hey, Awesomeness, I'm not coming in today. I should be fine by tomorrow though.
Awesomeness: Well, I hope you feel better, I'll see you tomorrow.
Jailbait: I'll call you if that changes.
Awesomeness: Thanks.

I get into work and relay this to MisManager who is now giving me the whole, "Was that really all he said?" routine again. I did what any grown up professional would do: I told her I had to pee and ran away. I had a long day ahead of me and I didn't want to start this way. I just had to dodge her for an hour. I can do this.

She was waiting for me outside the bathroom. "Can I speak with you in private for a moment?"

I would love to, but I have a client showing up to stab me repeatedly in the face any minute now, and I just can't miss that.

Damn no-show.

I feel like you're holding back on me. What aren't you telling me about what he said?

Oh, there's just no escaping this is there?

I'm not holding back anything. I get the impression like you expect me to have said or done more during the conversation I had with him. I didn't say anything else, because it's not like I'm in a position to do anything about his absence. That's his choice. What you saw was my scrambling to not say that in front of the rest of the staff.

I expected her to tear my head off, but she must have had a rare moment of clarity. She just assured me that she doesn't expect me to demand his presence ~~LIAR!~~ and that she just wanted to make sure that I wasn't covering for him.

Wednesday

Jailbait makes it back into the office. Hooray! We now have to serve him with a verbal warning for his attendance. Boo!

I wish that would have gone smoothly, but MisManager decided to throw the book at him and berate him for his call-in excuses. From 2 years ago.

The only reason I stayed in the room was because the exit was blocked. Seriously.

Jailbait, naturally got a little defensive and proceeded to let her know that he hadn't recently called in for anything other than his own illness.

I ended this as quickly as possible.

Later that day, she called me.

Did you hear the way he was talking to me? I can't believe he copped an attitude in there. This seals it. I need to get to the bottom of why he was really gone. He wasn't sick. Did he look sick to you? You know where this attitude is coming from? EVM. She did this! You know what? I'm done feeling sorry for her. She's fucking GONE! She's poisoning everyone. I don't care what she does now, her ass is done.

Honestly, if I thought she had the stones to make good on that threat, I would have celebrated. Never gonna happen.

Thursday

I am now sitting in my room, where I've been for the last 3 hours, because I'm now laid up with the same stomach virus that Jailbait and my kid had.

You missed, karma! You missed.

Does He Know He Already Works For You?

2011-04-11T20:39:00.000-07:00

Well, we're at it again. My Lead employee is leaving for a promotion opportunity at another office and we're hiring to fill her position. Except, instead of filling her 40-hour position, MisManager has decided that we need two 20-hour employees. Since I dodged the ulcer bullet trying to get New Girl hired on, (I'm going to have to find a new nickname for her soon...) I'm in for twice the fun this time, I'm sure.

The first of the two candidates was easy for us. We interviewed a man for the New Girl's position 3 months ago and we've heard that he was still interested in working for our company. He interviewed very well, (and he has massive amounts of coffee-making experience) he seemed like he would be a good fit for our team, (as our new coffee boy) so I was disappointed then that he wasn't going to work for us (I mean, don't get me wrong, I make awesome coffee, but it's more awesome if someone else makes it).

I was expecting to have to fight MisManager a little bit to give him a call back, but was pleasantly surprised when she whole-heartedly agreed that we should get him in for a follow up interview right away. The caveat: she wanted to see him that afternoon. Ugh. Here we go again.

Who knows, though, there may have been an off chance that the guy didn't have anything at all happening on a Friday afternoon....

No. He was occupied as I was sure he would be, but don't ask, don't get right? I made an appointment with him first thing Monday morning and thought I did well. I did until I reported my "success" to MisManager.

MisManager: Why couldn't he come in today?
Awesomeness: He has to work.
MisManager: Well, we're trying to offer him a job, he can't change his schedule for one day?
Awesomeness: Uh, no. (Would our employees be able to change their schedule on an hour or two notice to go interview for a new job? Oh, hell no they wouldn't.)
MisManager: I'm starting to rethink calling him back.

Well that's convenient. Seeing as how I've already had a conversation with the dude. I'll just call him right back and tell him that we've changed our minds again.

See, this is the problem. She acts like these applicants already work for her. I have to remind her that they have prior commitments. Especially the ones that we passed on three months ago. This call came completely out of the blue. I thought that he showed a real interest in agreeing to show up first thing in the morning on Monday.

All is ending well (for today...you all know how this circus goes). We interviewed him this morning and I talked MisManager into calling the recruiter to get started on his onboarding before she changed her mind.

In a few short weeks, I'm gonna have my very own Coffee Bitch! Life is good.

Other Things Left Unsaid

2011-04-05T20:42:00.000-07:00

Last week, I wrote a post for my forum about things that I leave unsaid, forget to mention, assume is assumed, you get the picture. I was feeling pretty down on myself at the time because I didn't feel like I participate enough with the people who reach out to me for friendship.

And then I remembered....

Sometimes, I think you need to whine less and think more.
Sometimes, I want to tell you that you unfairly judge people based on rumors from unreliable sources.
Sometimes, I think your baby is ugly.
Sometimes, I want to nominate you for What Not To Wear.
Sometimes, I think that your holier-than-thou attitude about crap that doesn't even matter makes me want to shake you.
Sometimes, I'm really thinking about absolutely nothing.
Sometimes, I am too insecure to share my own problems.
Sometimes, I need a break because life just won't quit for 10 minutes so I can collect my thoughts.

Not always, just sometimes.

The lesson here is that it's actually better that I don't try to reach out on some occasions.

*Note that in the above post, the term "you" is a generic amalgam of many, many people that I encounter during my day. It in no way refers to you personally.

**Or does it?

Your Timing Is Off...And Other Fun Memories From Today

2011-03-28T21:23:00.000-07:00

"We just wanted to bring a few things over for you and your tiny daughter."

I knew today was going to be difficult after yesterday's phone call. I was not expecting the infuriating blunderfest that MisManager made of the day.

1. We have a meeting every Monday. For today's meeting, we had invited a guest speaker. It was one of our business partners who comes into the office frequently enough that he is well-acquainted with everyone, but not so often that he's "one of the family." Instead of waiting until our guest had said his piece and giving everyone a chance to think about his advice, MisManager decided to make the announcement right away.

This went something like:

I have some news this morning. Last night I got an unexpected call from (widowed employee). Her husband died. I guess it was a heart attack. Right now, we need to do everything we can to help her out. Mostly just keep her in your prayers. So, Steve, you're here this morning to talk to us about....

I could have slapped her. Of course, our business partner was stunned and didn't recover from having to follow a death announcement. We'll probably have to invite him back to try it again.

2. The advice she gave during her careless speech was that we should "do everything we can to help her out." Widow Employee is a very private person under normal circumstances. These are extremely trying circumstances. The last thing we want to do is "everything we can." What she really needs from us is to respect her privacy and leave her the fuck alone.

I decided around the middle of the day to express my concerns to MisManager, because I was very afraid that some members of our staff (like EVM, who naturally preys on anyone in need) would take the comment as an open invitation to hound the poor woman. I did not expect her to admit that she'd been trying to talk everyone else on the staff into delivering food to the grieving family.

I don't know how I found big girl words to mask my rage as I delicately explained to her that she may want to rethink bombarding a person in mourning with more food than she and her daughter could eat. Knowing the aggrieved, the statement we would make would be, "I'm sorry your husband died and whatever. Mind if we just barge in here and make you store some food that you're going to throw away later?"

3. In this same conversation, I asked her if she had called one of our former employees who is pretty close to Widow Employee. She tells me that she is "not proactively calling anyone." Like this is a sales call. She then advised me not to tell our former coworker unless I "just happened to be talking to her." She also made a few other comments that insinuated that I'd just asked her if we called everyone who ever knew Widow. I just wanted to call someone that I know she considers a friend. Way to exaggerate my intentions.

So, naturally, I called anyway. Fuck that noise. I can only imagine if she found out from someone else. She would be very upset.

4. On the way home from work today, I told Mr. A that he's not allowed to die while I still work for MisManager.

Apparently her lack of tact is rubbing off on me.

I Guess She's Sad Or Something

2011-03-27T20:13:00.000-07:00

I got a call tonight from MisManager. She wanted me to know before we made it into the office tomorrow that a coworker's husband had just had a heart attack and passed away. It wasn't a complete shock, as he had been unhealthy for a while, but nonetheless, it was still a sad announcement. My heart immediately went out to his wife and daughter.

I was a little distracted in my sympathy, though, by the turn the conversation took:

We will have to look at the schedule when we get in, because she won't be back to work for a week. I guess she's pretty sad about this...

All I could say was, "Wow." She thought I was talking about the news.

We have to make this announcement to the staff tomorrow. I sincerely hope she works on that line a little before the morning meeting.

Rest in peace, Brett.

How Do You Know You're Bored?

2011-03-21T12:36:00.000-07:00

When you have an unexpected day off because your older child has an out-of-nowhere fever, and the most productive thing you've done all day is watch this:

Professional Dress Code

2011-03-16T21:17:00.001-07:00

As much as I'd like to say that man/woman workplace equality has progressed to a state where both sides get fair and equal treatment, there is one area that needs considerable improvement:

Dress Code

Men at my work are expected to wear long sleeved dress shirts, a tie, and dress slacks (in 100+ degree desert heat, no less), while women get to come in dressed in short sleeved, light cotton shirts, capri pants and dress sandals.

Being a woman, I hate to complain about something that would seem to be an advantage, but is it really? Most of the time, I ignore the normal female dress wear in favor of a suit. Why? Because if I don't, then clients ask my brand new male employees to come override my judgement when they don't agree with me.

It's happened. I don't really blame the person either. The men are dressed like serious professionals. I'm dressed like their daughter who just borrowed $50.00. After a couple of those misunderstandings, I decided that coming to work dressed like I mean business is a lot more important to me (and my staff) than looking frilly.

I don't feel like I'm "butching out" or losing my femininity in any way in a suit. I can still wear my cutesy shirts under my suit jacket and accessorize well. I can also occasionally find a pair of dressy sandals. It's really not bad at all.

Ever since I've become aware of this discrepancy, I get irritated when I see it elsewhere. Nowhere more infuriating than on the morning news, though. It's probably because I'm watching before my coffee's kicked in, but I get annoyed as all hell when I see this:

I'm not sure what men's alternative styles would look like, but this is the official beginning of my plea to end fashion oppression.*

*This is the official end. I'm really not a fighter.

Way To Take Things Personally (Very Long...So Sorry!)

2011-03-09T07:11:00.001-07:00

No, seriously, if I knew this was going to turn into such a thing, I would have written about it as it went. Stick with the story for tons of craziness.

After a long hiatus from this blog, MisManager is making a big comeback.

The back story:

Almost 2 months ago, we started interviewing to replace one of my employees (no matter the position in my company, there are always 2 managers involved in the interviewing process). We ended up with 3 very good applicants and 1 very crazy, stalkerish one.

The very first candidate we interviewed, I loved. MisManager hated. Hated with a passion I could not even begin to describe with words. What bought the applicant her own car on MisManager's Hate Train? During the interview, Applicant admitted that she gets frustrated when her current manager doesn't communicate properly. I can totally relate to her frustration. It's something that I go through with MisManager daily. It's no wonder MisManager took the comments personally. In our post interview meeting:

MisManager: So...what'd you think?
Awesomeness: I really liked her. I thought she answered our questions thoroughly and already has a strong work ethic and sales background. She has a very open personality that will fit in well with the current staff.
MisManager: I did not like her at all. I have some serious concerns about her maturity and did you hear her response about her manager? You don't bash your manager in an interview. She'll poison the staff with her negativity. Also, I disagree that she'll get along with the staff. She and EmployeeVonMunchausen will clash. Big time.

Okaaaaay. First of all, guess what the number one response has been in an interview to the question, "What is your biggest frustration in your current position?" Communication. I would give it, off the top of my head, about an 80% answer rate. It leads to some rough times and it's a very valid frustration.

Applicant's answer was very oriented toward the lacking behavior and spoke very intelligently about the effects it has on her and the rest of the staff. In no way did she "bash her manager."

Second of all, I think that rubbing EVM the wrong way is a good thing. She needs to get shaken out of her little tree every now and again. The rest of my current staff allows her to sulk and whine. They just enable her to be a mopey asshole and I need troops to support my efforts to draw her out.

MisManager disagreed with that assessment (even though she always talks about how outstanding I am at managing interpersonal conflict...this is my thing, lady, leave me to it). Applicant was off the table. This was unfortunate, because she was very good.

Flash forward 2 weeks, we now have a couple of other interviews out of the way and settled on the 3rd candidate. He was everything we were looking for and he managed not to "bash his manager" during the interview.

Except, he decided to turn into a dick about pay. He currently makes $10.00/hour + bonus. We were offering him $11.00/hour + bonus with no previous experience in our line of work. He wanted $12.50/hour + bonus and he wasn't budging. I have employees that have been with me for 3 years that barely make $12.50/hour. There's no way. Douchey move, dude.

So, this left MisManager and I discussing our Plan B prospect. I thought it was a no-brainer, since she seemed to have such a serious problem with Applicant #1. Nope.

MisManager: (speaking of Applicant #1) I think that she'll really be the best fit for us overall.
Awesomeness: What happened to your concerns about her answers regarding communication? You felt very strongly about that.
MisManager: I don't think that we have communication issues here, so that wouldn't really concern me.

She does this to me. Oh my fucking god, it drives me batshit crazy.

So we offer the position to Applicant #1, and she accepts. She gladly accepts the same offer of pay that the last guy turned down and is excited to come aboard. Then the real fun begins.

MisManager: When can she start?
Awesomeness: She's got to give her 2 week notice, then she'll need to start the following Monday. That puts her start date on Feb. 28.
MisManager: Why didn't she already give her notice?
Awesomeness: .... Because she hadn't gotten the job before today.
MisManager: We need someone in here sooner than this. She's not really leaving me with a good feeling.

Oh crap. Here we go again. I put in an effort to try to reason with her. It's illogical that someone would quit their current job before their new one is a done deal. She wasn't listening. Her point of view was that Applicant should have put in her notice on the first day that our Human Resources called her to extend the position. This is not a one-day process though.

H.R. calls applicant. Applicant may not get their voicemail right away because they're working or in school
Next day, applicant calls back. They discuss hours and pay. Applicant accepts.
Applicant goes through a thorough background check. This takes 2 days.
Applicant gets drug tested. Results take up to 3 days.

From the time we offer the job, to the time we send an official welcome letter, it's usually a week to a week and a half.

Today's issue:

Applicant has finally started. This is her second week with us. She is fitting in so well with my staff that it's almost like she's been there for years. She's catching on to her job very quickly. I love the way this is working out.

Then Applicant, referred to hereafter as New Girl, lets slip that, while she was waiting for over a week for us to go through our long new hire selection process, her counterpart at her current job hurt herself and is now on medical leave. So New Girl has quit, but her official end date was extended a bit because she's staying on, very part-time, to help them out until the other employee comes back. I appreciate that kind of loyalty.

New Girl hasn't said anything about needing any special consideration, so I'm left to ask if she feels that her responsibilities to her old job are going to cause a scheduling issue with our position. The answer is a very quick and decisive, "NO!" Our job is her primary focus. I'm completely satisfied with this.

MisManager, however, has decided to take this as a personal affront and unleashed a barely coherent mass of fury on me the other day:

MisManager: I didn't even want her in the first place! (We knew this was coming.) We gave her 2 weeks to quit that job (how magnanimous of us), so what the hell is she still doing there? She lied to me. She lied and I feel so betrayed right now. She's not going to be here for long, you just wait and see. How is she going to manage our job and this other job at the same time (people do it all the time; she's young, it's temporary, she'll survive)? I'm going to have to sit her down some time today. She needs to decide to either be here or be there.

Aw, shitballs. Now I can't leave her with a free minute to corner New Girl. This is not going to happen. New Girl's old job does not interfere with this job. I don't really care what she does in her free time. I really don't. She's not out whoring or drugging. She's not flashing her tits on a webcam. I'm good. She's good. We're all good. If MisManager backs her into a weird spot right now, I'm not sure that she'll think this job is worth her time if she has to work for a fucking nutbar.

It's Wednesday morning and I'm already ready for the weekend. And a stiff drink.

The Waterbed (A Follow Up To "Waterbed City")

2011-03-05T15:57:00.001-07:00

It's finally here! The waterbed. I hadn't though about owning one since I was a teenager, but now I finally do and I must admit that I should have gotten one sooner. The thing is totally cool.

I especially love that it can be heated. I've already told Mr. A that any time I feel ~~like the old lady I am~~ achy that I was going to remove the pillow top and just lay on the water...mattress...thingy. (Whatever you call it.) It's like a gigantic hot water bottle.

Here's what it looks like without the cover:

With the cover:

Now to talk Mr. A into some bedding I like.....

Shitty Service Pediatrics

2011-03-02T05:57:00.000-07:00

I love my kids' pediatrician. That woman is outstanding. As a matter of fact, all of the doctors in that office are good people. The office staff, however, makes me want to tear shit up with a bat.

Awesomeness: I need to make an appointment for my kids to follow up with a doctor. They've had ear infections and one seems to be okay, but the other doesn't seem to be doing better. I can't make it in today, but I'd like to get them in tomorrow.

Awesomeness: Thanks.

Awesomeness: Is that the only appointment you have? It doesn't really work well for me. I have to work.

Awesomeness: Well, I don't have a choice, do I? Book it.

So, now I have to:

Drive an hour into work for an hour and 1/2 of work.
Drive an hour back to pick up the kids.
Drive 1/2 an hour to the doctor's office.
Drive 1/2 an hour back to the house, drop off the kids.
Drive an hour back into work for 3 hours of work.
Drive an hour back home.

I'm not looking forward to this. Mr. A is hiding the bats.

Why We're Horrible Parents: Reason #163

2011-02-26T18:54:00.000-07:00

The other night, my daughter woke up crying. She said that her stomach hurt, so Mr. A naturally assumed she was going to die. I didn't think that 2 people needed to tend to a kid with a bellyache, so I fell asleep.

At 2:30 in the morning, Mr. A wakes me up. "She started throwing up." Yup. Sometimes kids with bellyaches do that. "She's also got a fever." Uh huh. "She's at 99.8." Jackass. That's not a fever. "She seems to be in so much pain. She can barely walk." Um, the kid who has been awake for about 20 hours and just finished puking her guts out can't walk right? "I think we should take her in." GRRRRRRR!

I go downstairs and she's asleep on the couch. "So, you want to start getting ready?" No, I don't want to start getting ready, asshole! I want to let our tired kid, who just threw up, get some sleep.

A while later, he won. I don't know how, but at the time it just seemed easier to agree with him.

We take her to Urgent Care, where ~~Dr. Dipshit~~ the nice doctor looks her over and starts jamming his hand into her belly. "Do you see that? Do you see the way she's flexing her stomach muscles? We call that 'guarding'." Oh, no you fucking didn't. This has got to be some joke you play on dumb parents who bring their kids to Urgent Care for no reason. Anyone with half a sense of logic can tell that she's just reacting to you jamming your hands repeatedly into her tender belly. He urged us to take her to the children's hospital for an ultrasound because he thinks she might have appendicitis.

What do we look like, fucking moro....

Where's Mr. A going?

To the emergency room at the children's hospital.

Oh, please. I just want to get myself and my kid home for some much needed sleep.

Nope. To the emergency room we go. A doctor there takes a look at her, asks us questions about what brought us in, takes some notes...

Doctor Judgypants: When was the last time she had a bowel movement?

I look at Mr. A; he looks at me; we shrug. "Uh, we have no idea."

Doctor Judgypants: Neither of you can tell me about the last time she pooped?

Oh, crap. The part about keeping track of her crap wasn't in our kid's instruction manual.

Turns out she was blocked up. Our co-pay is $250 for emergency room visits. My daughter got a $250 enema that night.

The whole time, though, the doctor kept pushing the issue, "You seriously have no idea when the last time she went was? Do you know if she's gone at all this week?"

My daughter has been fully potty trained for about 2 years now. She wipes her own ass (most of the time) and everything. How in the hell are we supposed to know when she's shitting? We can ask her, I guess, but she doesn't have the best handle on the whole "time" thing. Besides, she was answering, "Uh, huh," to every question. "Kiddo, did you poop yesterday?" "Uh, huh," "Did you poop out a goat on the moon?" "Uh, huh,"

If there's any parent out there that knows about when the last time their fully potty trained kid took a dump, please set me straight.

Waterbed City

2011-02-18T21:10:00.000-07:00

We are in the market for a new mattress. Mr. A has a twitchy back and ~~the little princess~~ he cannot tolerate our cushy pillow top mattress any longer.

(Seriously, we've only had the mattress for a couple of years. There's no reason he should be this uncomfortable.)

Taxes filed + return expected = mattress shopping has commenced. He knows that he will no longer be able to rest his dainty head on a regular spring mattress any longer, as they've been banned by the Geneva Convention as instruments of torture. *cough* So he's put in some time to do research on his alternatives.

Air beds: no. Apparently they're nothing but problems. Most of the reviews he read have mentioned something about the air leaking out. It really sounds like a pain-in-the-ass.

Tempurpedic: no. Something about the foam taking the shape of your body in no time flat.

The last viable option he looked into was a waterbed. For anyone who hasn't shopped for a new bed in a while, waterbeds are now made with foam sides so they can be placed on a regular bed frame. They also no longer make you sea sick.

This suited his majesty and he proceeded to locate places in town that sell these new wonder beds.

The top Google search pick: Waterbed City.

Sounds promising. I mean, surely you can find one bed you like in an entire city of them.

He pulls into the parking lot of a tiny storefront. One other car graces the parking lot. That would be the car of Waterbed City's one employee.

He chanced walking in anyway, only to find 4 waterbeds. He also swears that one of the mattresses had a blood stain.

This place has some nerve calling itself Waterbed City.

Waterbed City, you have officially been downgraded to Waterbed Village of the Damned.

**this post has been brought to you today by 2 Margaritas**

Coldmageddon

2011-02-03T05:57:00.000-07:00

Citizens of Phoenix:

You all are the whiniest motherfuckers EVER. It got cold yesterday. Get over it. You have to put up with 37F, beautiful, sunny weather while the rest of the country is buried in ice.

It's not raining. It's not snowing. It's barely windy. The only reason you notice the wind is because the low temps make it kinda chilly.

I left the house without jacket or gloves yesterday. Me. The girl who resides in a house kept at 75F and feels the need to dress in sweats and socks and is currently covered in a heavy comforter. Brrrrr.

You, at large, left your house in motherfucking parkas. Dramatic? A thick sweater really would do, you dicks.

The accidents on the road: unbelievable. You would think that there really was ice everywhere with as much as you people were crashing into one another. There were 3 accidents within a half-mile of my work as I was leaving. Mr. A went around these and found himself trudging by another accident a mile down the road.

You are not in the arctic. You are not even in the Midwest. You need to collectively man up and deal with the fact that it was chilly for 2 fucking days in your desert paradise.

Sunday's projected temp: 71F. The rest of the country will still be buried in snow and your spoiled ass will be golfing.

Shut the fuck up.

First, Start With Your Eyeballs...

2011-02-02T07:10:00.000-07:00

Hello there, People Who Clean The Office.

I am very grateful for the work you do. I wouldn't do it if you paid me a million dollars, so the fact that you do it for slightly more than minimum wage makes you saints in my eyes.

Speaking of eyes, I'd like to point out that using them every so often would greatly improve, not only the quality of your work, but our relationship as well.

The issue starts with the fact that you only come in to clean at night, long after I've left and long before I return. Our sole method of communication is through a notebook that we keep in the closet with your cleaning supplies.

Last Monday, when you came in, you left me a note that said, "Need peper towls." Spelling errors aside, this was an effective communication that we were running low on a much needed supply. Peper towls were ordered and the box was placed just inside the closet door underneath the shelf that holds the notebook.

Wednesday rolls around and you write in the book, "". This tells me that you still need peper towls. Um, I hate to embarrass you, but you had to climb over a case of peper towls to get to the notebook where you're making your ditto marks. Surely, you will see this the next time.

Friday, more "". Wow. The box has a big, blue picture of peper towls right on it. I turned the box so that you might notice this finally.

Monday, I get "" and arrows. My bad for not opening the peper towl box for you. I also placed some peper towls next to the notebook. Now that I've done that, let's see if you can find them tonight.

My Crazy Week, Part 3: The Stabbing

2011-01-24T20:18:00.000-07:00

On Thursday, I was about 2 minutes away from ending my lunch when the yelling started. I had no idea what was happening, but I have one of those weird instincts that directs me toward potential danger. Much like the dumb people in horror movies. If I were watching myself, I'd yell, "No, Awesomeness! Stop!! The killer is out there!" Then I'd watch myself get harpooned and flung off of a balcony.

Anyway, I hauled my ass out of the breakroom to find two men running around the lobby. One of them was throwing our signs, stands and other marketing tools we keep laying around, at the other. We also had a client in the lobby, so my priority became getting her behind a door and out of the way.

Especially after the knife came out. Now I know that this isn't some game of Ring Around The Rosies gone wrong. My staff was on top of it, as no less than 3 of the 4 were on the phone with 911 by the time I was pulling the client through the door that leads to our breakroom. The 4th was rushing to help me get the client to safety.

We didn't actually see the stabbing, and thank goodness, because no one wants to witness that. We just knew that the guy being chased suddenly had blood coming from 2 places on his head and the chaser was running out the door.

The cops showed up within a minute. That's the one nice thing about the neighborhood I work in; there's always a ton of crime, but it means the police are always near.

After the dust settled on the actual activity, the back story came out: Stabber's girlfriend was raped, Stabber thought Stabbee did it. He showed up at Stabbee's doorstep and started attacking him. Stabbee ran. Why he ran to our office is so far beyond me, I don't even have a guess, but that's what he did.

Stabber came back with the girlfriend at some point before the cops left and turned himself in. At least we don't have to worry about him coming back to silence us.

Of course, then the real excitement starts. When the grapevine effect kicks in and the story starts circulating around, it takes some really interesting turns:

Stabber's girlfriend also ended up getting stabbed.
Client was thrown to the ground and kicked. (Today, the story was she was taken away in an ambulance.)
Stabber's girlfriend also got arrested.
Blood was everywhere and they shut down the office. (The blood only got on his shirt.)

It was also interesting to see the differences in reactions to the events across the members of the staff:

EVM kept swearing she thought Stabber was going to pull a gun and start shooting everyone.
Lead Employee (again, she really needs a nickname...) just cared that client was fine, otherwise, it was Thursday.
The two employees from sales just cared that the clients that were sitting in front of them would come back in (I'm not sure one of them will).
I got mad.

At first, I was mad at Stabber. He was the apparent bad guy in this. Then I looked at the video. Stabbee ran into the office, yelled at the staff that someone was after him and to call the cops (the yelling I heard), ran back out of the building and started yelling and pointing at Stabber, only to be chased back in by Stabber. Now, I think Stabbee brought this on himself a little.

This coming from the girl that ran right into the fray.

Stabbee is fine. He's got some stitches and staples, but he lives to lure potential murderers into the office another day.

My Crazy Week, Part 2: Pimp Daddy

2011-01-23T10:11:00.001-07:00

As an establishment that deals in finances, validating a person's signature is something we do from open to close and in a multitude of ways. From merely checking an I.D. to providing a Signature Guarantee or affixing a Medallion Stamp, if you've got a signature, we can make it official. One of our most popular demands is for the service of a Notary Public.

Nowadays, everything needs to be notarized. I notarize field trip forms for parents (sorry, kids of today, no one trusts you anymore), I notarize vehicle titles, adoption papers, affidavits, wills and trust papers. One time I was asked to notarize a ... we'll just call it a contract for physical favors. As a professional, I declined. As an unprofessional, I thought it was the funniest thing ever and so wanted to do it.

There are a couple of different ways you can notarize a signature. The first way is by acknowledgement. This means that you are merely acknowledging that the person who appeared before you is the person who was entitled to sign the document and that you verified their signature. It's the most common notarization. The other way to notarize is by jurat. For a jurat, the document you're notarizing must be completed in its entirety and the signer must swear that the contents are true and correct. This type of notarization is used for documents where the integrity of the information is paramount. This would be used for affidavits and such.

On Wednesday, we watched a car pull in. Out of this car comes 3 ladies, all looking a little rough. Like they've, um, been around the block a few times. *wink, wink* At this point, we couldn't see the driver of the vehicle because of glare, but we had enough entertainment just watching the Ladies climb out of the car and hold a mini-conference before coming into the office.

Lady #1 approached my Lead employee and asked to get a notarization on a form she presented. It contained the certificate for a jurat, so Lead (I really, really need to come up with a nickname for her...) looked over the document to make sure it was completed in its entirety. Of course it wasn't and it was 3 pages long. Lady #1 had a lot of writing to do.

In the meantime, Ladies #2 and #3 kept looking anxiously out the window. It was distracting to watch them whisper to one another and then, almost in unison, turn their heads to look back at their car. I thought, "What in the what is going on here?"

My question was answered when, after about 5 minutes, a guy came in and started growling angrily at the girls. "What's taking so long? This was supposed to be done a long time ago....mumble, mumble, growl....yo' ass out to the car..."

He walked around like that in our lobby until the whole menagerie left. Now, I'm not going to make a character judgement, but I will merely point out some facts:

Fact # 1: he was very sharply dressed.
Fact # 2: he carried a big, solid-looking walking stick.
Fact # 3: those ladies were very nervous around him.
Fact # 4: he was, very clearly, the boss of them.

...and from that, I will let you draw your own conclusions.

My Crazy Week, Part 1: The Applicant

2011-01-21T21:59:00.000-07:00

My first clue that something was wrong was when I called this girl and she couldn't figure out how to work her phone. The second was when I asked if she'd like to come in to interview and she said, "Sure." Just a flat, blah, "Sure." I didn't expect her to be "piss-my-pants" excited, but I knew with that non-committal reply that she was not a good fit. We called our Recruiter and asked if it was necessary to even do an interview. It wasn't. Her application sucked, and neither MisManager nor I wanted to do it, but we decided to be nice and give her a courtesy interview.

I found out just how unexcited she really was when she called up about an hour before her interview and canceled. No explanation, she just couldn't make it. She wanted to reschedule for 15 minutes after we normally leave the office. We said, uh no. Then she offered to call us to let us know when she was going to be available later that day. Wow...

Listen here, sister, we're interviewing because we're missing a member of our team. This means we're doing extra work. We. Are. Busy. You're off yer frickin' rocker if you think we're going to rearrange our whole damn day for you.

We called Recruiter and said we would like to pass on her all together. Recruiter said, "No sweat! I will call and let her know that you went with another applicant." This was not a lie, since we'd already had 2 good interviews and another outstanding applicant on the way (this would be the one we selected).

What was a lie, was that Recruiter was going to call her. Which, may not be fair, since I don't know if Flaky Applicant figured out how to work her phone. So, Recruiter may have actually called her all day long. She obviously never reached her, though, because the next day Flaky calls up again wanting to know why she didn't hear back from us about that interview. She assertively pointed out that she was going to be available after 4:00. Flaky left this message with one of my employees.

We called Recruiter to find out why she hadn't talked to Flaky. She was out of the office. And will continue to be until Monday. Aw gawdammit. Well, we'll just continue to ignore her calls I guess.

Until she calls again the next day and leaves a message with EVM. Then calls later that day to insistently demand to hold for either me or MisManager. I have no idea how long she was on hold, but I'm sure it was a record.

I guess we could have spoken with her, but we were occupied by other, more urgent matters, as I will discuss in later posts. The rest of my crazy week will be broken down into a few parts, but will include:

Someone almost getting pimp slapped in our lobby. Like, by a really real pimp.
Someone getting stabbed in the head in our lobby.
The Amish. (Okay, this will not get it's own post, but whatever in the hell are the Amish doing in Phoenix?)
Wackjob Wednesday.

I hope I have the brain cells to carry this forward.

How To Piss Off Your Boss

2011-01-19T09:09:00.000-07:00

I knew yesterday was going to be an off day when EmployeeVonMunchausen showed up 5 minutes late with breakfast from Sonic. Because nothing says, "I totally could've made it to work on time, but fuck you," like strolling in late with breakfast.

She follows that up with an indignant remark about us opening the office doors before she'd gotten a chance to get her desk ready.

Then comes the barrage of asinine questions:

"Awesomeness, the software that runs our daily reports isn't working. We got a message saying it's down at every office. What do you want me to do?"

Um, wait until it's working again and then pull the reports.

"Awesomeness, my sales tracking software is still not working! What do you want me to do?"

The same thing I wanted you to do on Friday, when you first reported the problem. Call tech support and have them figure it out. That's, like, their job and stuff.

"Awesomeness, I have a phone call for MisManager, but she's got a client. What do you want me to do?"

(No, really.) I want you to take a message or send the client to her voicemail.

Anything after that, I battled the urge to say, "I want you to banish yourself to an alternate dimension."

We were short-handed because "Carlos's" last day was the previous Thursday and Jailbait is on vacation. I'm trying to juggle in some interviews to replace "Carlos" and this is really my #1 priority. I needed her to be on top of her game today. Instead, I got this bungler that thought it was appropriate to procrastinate her lunch by half an hour, thereby screwing me out of half an hour of my lunch. This was time I desperately needed so I could readjust my mental focus before continuing on with interviews.

Then the final straw: she couldn't figure out how to resolve her work at the end of the day. There are some things that can't wait until the next day to get sorted out. She managed to find every single one of those things and fuck it up.

Does she really have to ax murder someone to get fired? (Sadly, I'm convinced the answer is yes.)

Interestingly, my horoscope agrees that a come-to-Jesus is in order. This really was written just for me. The only thing missing is my name.

January 19, 2011

Taurus (4/20-5/20)
Uh oh. You've been trying and trying and trying some more to Just Say No to being mad -- still -- but you just can't seem to get rid of that urge to let go and let you-know-who have it. The problem is that just about everyone around you -- even those not ordinarily prone to 'yessing' you for brownie points -- seems to agree. Oh, this one calls for drastic measures. How about a sit-down talk? A 'state of the relationship' kind of thing? Neutral turf and chaperones/advisors are a must.

The Strangest Thing Happened....

2011-01-13T05:47:00.000-07:00

Mr. A had an encounter at a Walgreens the other day that was probably the strangest display of assholery that I’ve ever heard of. I will be telling this story for a while.

He set out Sunday afternoon to get some supplies for our son, who was battling a temp that settled comfortably around 103. He enters the Walgreens to the immediate display of a 6’2” man, dressed in full cowboy regalia….with his face painted like a clown. Cowboy Clown is talking up the lady at the register and Mr. A just figured that he was winding up a transaction (I assume he would be purchasing balloons and chewing tobacco) and he’d be on his way.

When he finished selecting his items and made his way back to the cash register, however, he discovered the giant redneck clown was still yakking away at the cashier. This was mighty annoying considering that the dude should have moved on a long time ago. As he's waiting for them to wrap up their chatting, he caught the topic: the cashier is really interested in leaving her illustrious career in cashiering to work parties as a balloon-bending clown.

Awesome. So now Mr. A can't get service at the store, and get our son his medicine, because this ass clown wants to be a clown clown. Mr. A tried to get the cashier's attention, as the clowning was not pertinent business for the Walgreen's and he (rightfully) thought that his service should have been a priority.

Clowny and his grasshopper had other ideas, because both ignored him. Neither of them thought for a minute that it was a good idea to get on with the business she was there for. So what does Mr. A do?

He pushed the clown out of his way and tossed all of his stuff in front of the cashier.

At this point in the story, I had to have him stop for a minute so I could catch my breath from laughing so hard. How many people get to say that they had to push a 6'2" cowboy clown?

So how does Clowny take being physically handled?

He ignores Mr. A.

Because Clowny is ignoring Mr. A, so does the cashier. They just carry on their clown college conversation. She does, however, ring up his items, so it wasn't a total waste of effort.

Like I said, I will be telling this one for a while.

I Know I'm Missing Something

2011-01-08T08:46:00.000-07:00

It's been a long time since I've had any gripes with EmployeeVonMunchausen. The last month, actually, has been bliss. She hasn't called in, she hasn't overshared, she didn't withdraw and pout in her little corner. For the first time in a very, very long time, she acted like an adult member of my team. What changed? I'll speculate and say:

She got the head of H.R. involved in our war. Honestly, she didn't get anything of use out of the encounter, but she did get an empathetic ear. This is something she has not had in the office for quite some time. She burned us all a long time ago.

She started posting for positions at other locations. In a desperate get-me-the-fuck-outta-here maneuver, she started putting herself out there for every open position that she thought she had a chance of landing. Nice try, but the managers of those offices called me. I hate to shoot myself in the foot, but I hate the idea of passing along a horrible employee more. My relationship with my peers means a lot to me. Besides, I sincerely don't wish her on anyone.

She started posting for positions outside the company. I was, obviously, not listed as a reference for her, so I never got to weigh in on any of that. It's better that way.

Yesterday, she found out that the last of the internal positions declined her, so she decided to call a meeting with me.

What she said:

I'm actually really happy that it didn't work out. I feel that the last month has been really good and it's like old times again. I wanted to let you know that I'm interested in talking about what I need to do to move forward to the next level.

What I heard:

Well, since I got fucked out of every other job I applied for, I'm stuck trying to make this work out. I have been a total shit head for the last year, but I'm just crazy enough to ask for a promotion on the heels of one of the worst performances I've ever turned out. Whadda ya say?

I'm a good sport. I gave her some criteria. The next level of promotion for her is to Lead Representative. I already have a Lead. She's awesome, because she's everything EVM is not: dependable, assertive, respectful...sane. This is what I need as my right hand.

The next act to this circus comes later in the day. EVM has been suffering from a sinus infection for about a week now. In all of this time, she's known what was wrong with her, but has not tried to get an appointment with her doctor or to check into Urgent Care. Very suddenly, after returning from lunch, she says, "I just can't take this anymore, I need to go to Urgent Care. I'm just going."

Well, now. I guess I'm not going to stop her, but I'm wondering what's changed between this morning, when she seemed okay enough to be there, and 1:00.

My best guess: our discussion. She's testing me to see if we really are "cool". I hate tests and I suck at them.

Guess who doesn't accrue any sick time until the end of the month. Right, EVM. So, to start off the year, she's got -4 hours of sick time. Guess who's getting another warning to start off her new year off right.

Experience tells me that this game just started. Maybe I could have some fun this time if I understood the rules or the object, but I have no clue. Whatever this damn game is, though, I'm determined to win in the end.

It's on.

It's Dead, Jim

2011-01-05T06:39:00.000-07:00

"Insanity: Doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results." --Albert Einstein

Dear Landscapers:

When the ocotillo in front of our building was blown over during the hail storm a couple of months ago, you really should have tossed it out. Instead, you replanted the thing. There was no hope of recovery for this plant. It was pulled up by its roots and was laying on its side for days.

So now we have this dead plant decorating our building. I, sure as shit, wasn't about to go dig the damn thing up, so I let it go.

Until it blew over again. I called our facilities department to make sure you knew that you really needed to get rid of it this time. Like, fuh-reelz. You must not have gotten the message, though, because the thing was up again when I got in to work the next day.

Until it blew over again. This time, it snapped apart right above the roots (because that's what dead plants do sometimes; they're just kinda funny like that) and I naively thought, "Oh, yeah, it's definitely getting thrown out now. No. Doubt."

Except when I got in the next morning, it was back up again. Propped up with rocks.

Are you fucking serious?!

Then it blew over. Again. This time, I made sure to catch your asses out there AS YOU WERE TRYING TO PROP THE FUCKING THING UP AGAIN. What do you say to me when I asked you to throw it out?

I'm going to have to ask my supervisor. He's the one who told us to put it back up.

Sonofabitch. When the manager of the property you're paid to work on tells you to throw away a very dead plant that keeps blowing over, just throw the fucking thing out. I told you to refer your supervisor to me, because I wanted to talk to him before you left.

I turn to go inside and could clearly see you signalling to the guy trying to Bernie my dead ocotillo. I know enough Spanish to understand that you were telling him to take it down. Less than a minute later, the truck was up front so you could get rid of the dead plant.

Huh. I guess you have walkie-talkie implants that give you instant access to your supervisor. Your landscaping business must be more lucrative than I thought.

Sincerely,

Awesomeness

Righteous Indignation

2010-12-31T18:56:00.000-07:00

On the heels of recovering from both the black plague and ebola (um, strep and a crazy stomach bug), the last thing I needed was the possibility of having to break up a cat fight in my lobby.

It isn't often that our customers talk to one another, and the conversations are usually helpful and friendly when it does happen. Yesterday was the exception.

An older lady came in and decided that we wanted to hear all about her harrowing experience of being asked for spare change in our parking lot. She made it sound like she just escaped an ass-raping.

A younger lady heard her nowhere-near-death tale and, surprisingly, wasn't moved. The conversation that followed didn't start off too wildly, but it declined. Fast.

Young: If you don't feel comfortable getting out of your car in this neighborhood, there are other locations you can go to.

Old: No, I know. I like coming here, but I just didn't feel safe when he approached me.

Young: Well, he was probably just hungry. I don't know why anyone would be afraid of a hungry person.

Old: It wasn't that he was hungry, he looked like he was on meth.

Young: Well, when I first saw you, I thought you were on meth.

Old: I'm not continuing this conversation with you.

Young: [something about Old being too good to talk to anyone]

Old: [something about Young growing up]

Young: [something immature and hippyish]

Old: [something about Young having a nice life]

(I don't know, after the meth comment they started talking over one another. This is what I picked out anyway.)

Now, of course, it's completely amusing, but yesterday I wanted to grab both of those two by the scruff of the neck and shake 'em.

And so ends 2010. Happy New Year!

Build Your Own Hell

2010-12-05T11:50:00.000-07:00

While I'm recovering from ebola (strep), I have plenty of time for extra-curricular activities, such as building my own Hell:

Riceboys
Circle I Limbo

Hipsters
Circle II Whirling in a Dark & Stormy Wind

PETA Members
Circle III Mud, Rain, Cold, Hail & Snow

General asshats
Circle IV Rolling Weights

Parents who bring squalling brats to R-rated movies
Circle V Stuck in Mud, Mangled

River Styx

Militant Vegans
Circle VI Buried for Eternity

River Phlegyas

Osama bin Laden
Circle VII Burning Sands

Scientologists
Circle IIX Immersed in Excrement

NAMBLA Members
Circle IX Frozen in Ice

Design your own hell

Online Articles

2010-12-04T16:10:00.000-07:00

I'm either a simple girl or a spoiled one. One of those character traits means that I enjoy uncomplicated interactions with the things around me.

For instance, when I'm online trying to read news and information articles, I like to browse a list of titles and click on the ones that sound interesting or informative and read (or, to be more accurate, skim for highlights). Here are the 2 things I don't want to see when I click on a link:

1. Videos: If I wanted to watch a video of a news article, I would just tune in to the fucking news. I'm online because I seriously just want to silently ~~skim~~ read articles at my leisure. What I don't want is a surprise check on the volume of my speakers. Getting blasted away by a news clip on the nutritional value of seeds is not how I prefer to start the morning. Or even better, when I'm treated to a surprise Old Navy ad. I have never shopped at Old Navy, exclusively because their commercials are super obnoxious.

2. The never-ending chain of links: This one usually goes like... "Oh hey! An article on how to stay healthy during the holidays. I think I'd like to read that...." *click* "Where's the damn article? Oh, there it is, buried halfway down the page as a small blurb...curious. Okay, so I'll just click on this one...." *click* "What the fuck is this?! A slideshow? A 30-part slideshow? Are you fucking kidding me? Can no one just write paragraphs in a column anymore? WHY??????!!!!!!" The rage I feel by the time I get to slide 9 ruins the whole article-reading experience for me. By then I feel like I'm trapped reading a shitty Choose Your Own Adventure book. It's also usually where I give up reading.

So, news folk, please remember: words, columns, the end.

It's Ebola...Or Karma

2010-11-29T19:10:00.000-07:00

Whatever it is, I'm sick as hell and unable to think. Instead, here is a video of warm and fuzzy well-wishes:

I Have A Life ... Or Something That Closely Resembles One

2010-11-18T21:19:00.000-07:00

Dear Inconsiderate Assclown:

I don't actually live at the office, Mr. Business Partner. I like to go home right after we close. Why in the world would you schedule a meeting with a client right at closing time? When I say closing time, I mean the client was running up to the doors as we were locking them.

You informed one of my sales girls that you were meeting someone, but left out the time. In the future we will know how important it is to ask you. It apparently means the difference between getting home in time for dinner and getting home in time for breakfast.

When your client left, you never apologized for keeping me late. You didn't even acknowledge the fact that you pulled a shitty douchebag move. I know I'm supposed to refer clients to you, but this isn't a good way to get me to keep you in mind. Please, in the future, feel free to meet with your clients right at closing time at someone else's office.

Sincerely,

Awesomeness

The Rules of Engagement

2010-11-11T09:53:00.000-07:00

Yesterday it finally happened. EmployeeVonMunchausen called up the head of our H.R. department to complain about me. I've been expecting this for months and months, so there was no surprise that it actually happened.

I have a couple of rules for you to follow, EVM, the next time you want to lodge a complaint:

1. Make your lies even a little believable. Calling up a lady that I've worked with for almost 10 years and telling her that I yelled at you in front of your coworkers is extremely unbelievable. When I yell, I sound like someone stepped on a rabid chihuahua. Sometimes, my voice also starts cracking like a teenage boy's when it's raised. Yelling is something that embarrasses me more than it does you, so I don't do it. I've never done it (at work).

This is not something that would ever be substantiated by anyone who's ever worked for me. This is the important part for you to remember EVM, because when H.R. gets caught in the middle of a she-said-she-said showdown, they start interviewing other parties.

Crap, you're screwed.

2. I would highly recommend that one of your complaints about me not be how I didn't respond apologetically to you when you accused me of being just like your abusive father.

Oh yeah, it happened. Twice.

The response I gave you, "That really offends me. I'm not your father and I don't appreciate the comparison," was the only response you were getting. Tough shit that you didn't like it; that's your problem, not mine. You have no idea how much trouble you're in for that remark. H.R. lady is offended that you would even say that to me. So is MisManager. MisManager's manager wanted to march into the office and throw you out on your ass. Bodily. I find it hilarious.

What does H.R. lady think of your complaints? I quote:

"She is obviously mentally disturbed. She knows that her job is in serious jeopardy and she's desperate to keep it."

Also, about your vague charges that I "treat you differently from everyone else:"

"It sounds like you reprimand her more than anyone else because she's the only one acting up..."

YES! HOLY CRAP, YEEEEEESSS!! Not that everyone else on my staff is perfect, but I haven't had to warn anyone else, in writing, 5 times in a year about their absences and tardies. Actually, no other employee I've ever had in all the 8 years I've been a supervisor has racked up so many disciplinary warnings as you, EVM. Too bad it's almost impossible for anyone to get fired at this company.

But....

But, EVM, you need to keep in mind that, after the first of the year, they're looking at doing some layoffs. MisManager, MisManager's manager and H.R. lady are all involved in that decision.

So maybe you should forget these rules and keep up your insane assault. I'm sure they need at least one easy decision when it comes time to decide who goes on the chopping block.

Unhappy, Eh?

2010-11-08T21:37:00.000-07:00

This has nothing to do with the post. I just needed a laugh right after I wrote it.

Today was my first day back at work after a whole week of laying around in my pajamas not being pissed off by spastic assholes. It's a good thing I came back in a good mood, because EmployeeVonMunchausen cranked the dial up to 11 today.

I knew she was going to call in. She's so predictable. It's Monday, her favorite day to call in. She did surprise us though by only calling in late. Apparently, since our last discussion when I mentioned that she almost exclusively calls in on Mondays, she has been trying extra hard to show that she's a buddy fucker every day of the week. Now she won't call all the way in on Mondays anymore.

< sarcasm >Well, that's a relief!< /sarcasm >

At first, she called and said that she'd be an hour late -- which meant that she would leisurely languish around her house in her bunny slippers until 9:15. She calls again and said "Nah, I think I'll come in at 9:30 instead." This time though, she doesn't even bother to talk to either me or MisManager. She leaves the message with one of her coworkers.

I understand, EVM, that the law provides you some protection because of your "condition" (whatever it is this week), but you can still get shit-canned for not following procedure. You will find out tomorrow how much your spiteful little stunt will put your job in jeopardy.

I would have preferred to talk to her today, but today was filled with other EVM goodness. She casually announced to us -- within earshot of her coworkers -- that she was applying for a transfer to one of our other offices. She said it was because she was unhappy...

Guess what, asshole. Me too. I would love to transfer your undependable, whiny, mopey ass to someone else and just be rid of you, but there isn't anyone I would do that to. Besides, we have you on a corrective action, which means you don't even get the privilege of interviewing.

This was the big mystery. Why was H.R. calling you to schedule an interview? I know that there are 2 questions that you have to answer in order to post for a transfer: "Does your current manager know that you wish to transfer?" (Followed by: "If no, then why not?") and "Are you currently on a corrective action or Performance Improvement Plan?"

We spent all day finding out why. After numerous calls to the recruiter, it turns out that you circumvented answering those crucial questions by posting for the position as an external candidate.

This is it. Tomorrow when we talk, this is all coming out. You're "unhappy" because you're being accountable to do a job that you've admitted that you're no longer interested in doing. Tough shit, cookie. You have altogether told me that you expect to not have to do any work outside of your basic responsibilities. Tough shit, cookie. You don't like the way this is going? Tough shit, cookie. You will be asked tomorrow to get with the program or tender your resignation. I usually dread these kinds of talks, but I'm looking forward to this one. Big time.

Update: Breaking News!

2010-11-03T07:51:00.000-07:00

It has been brought to my attention that I'm an asshole for not updating since my last post. I'm sure I'm also an asshole for many other reasons, this one just being the most recent. So, here's what we heard when we got to the meeting last Friday:

The company's stock has been downgraded after some disappointing 3rd quarter numbers. Rumors are starting to fly around that we'll be bought out by our competitors. The rumors are false.

Our company is, however, looking to close down a few of its under-performing offices. Honestly, this really needed to happen. When the housing market exploded, we built about 20 new offices in the markets where housing was going up the quickest in anticipation that they might be well-utilized there. Unfortunately, quite a few of these locations have not turned any sort of profit since they've opened -- for some of them, that was well over 5 years ago. They've had their chance.

My office will not be one of the closures. We're highly profitable and we're crazy busy. I'm actually hopeful that, in the displacement of the employees from the other locations, we might actually take on another part-timer.

Also, there will be additional layoffs. In the last round of layoffs, we were able to oust a woman who, quite frankly, was probably EmployeeVonMunchausen's idol and mentor. If we need to "sacrifice a lamb" guess who my pick will be.

So, I'm actually hopeful for the changes that are coming down.

Breaking News!

2010-10-29T05:59:00.000-07:00

There are certain qualities that a manager should possess. Without rattling off an entire list, we will focus on the one quality my manager lacks -- completely -- that would have come in handy today: composure.

Composure. So important. You panic, your team panics, the situation devolves into utter chaos. You stay calm, put your thinking cap on, start to brainstorm, your team feels like things are under control. That's really all there is to that lesson.

Do not do what MisManager did today. She calls me from across town:

MisManager: (In a purely panicked tone.) Have you heard any rumors?
Awesomeness: Uh, no. Is there something I need to know?
MisManager: Yeah....Can you tell everyone we're going to have a meeting tomorrow morning?
Awesomeness: Sure. What time do you need us all here?
MisManager: Oh, normal time, but we're just going to have a meeting before we open.
Awesomeness: Is this a bad thing?
MisManager: (Confused.) Why? No. I don't know. (Again, panicky.) Are you sure you haven't heard anything? I can try to make it back to the office tonight, but I'm about 45 minutes away....I don't think I'll make it.... Uh, I wish I didn't have to go to this meeting.... Are you sure you haven't heard anything??!!
Awesomeness: (I give up on trying to get any information and now I just want to get her crazy ass off the phone.) I haven't heard anything. I'll see you in the morning.

So, based on her panicked tone and lack of details, what is the first thing I want to do? Damn right I want to call the other offices to see if anyone else knows about this mystery announcement. I don't; a decision I'm still kicking myself for, because this is torture.

Is the company going out of business? Are we getting bought out? Are there going to be more layoffs? Are they cutting benefits? Are they freezing salaries? Are they closing down offices? These are all the questions that are running through my head right now. Questions that I now have to wait until this meeting to have answered.

The worst part is now I have to try to spin this out to my staff. I couldn't manage "positive", so I went for "indifferent" instead. "Que sera sera," on the outside. "OH MY FUCKING GOD! AM I GOING TO HAVE A JOB TOMORROW?" on the inside.

So, we'll wait and see....

No, Diego, No!

2010-10-21T21:19:00.000-07:00

We watch a lot of the Nick Jr. channel in this house. For the uninitiated, Nick Jr. encompasses all of the OHMYGODI'MGONNALOSEMYFUCKINGMIND shows. Programming such as Dora the Explorer, Team Umizoomi, Blue's Clues and Ni Hao Kai-Lan. These shows have actually proven to be a good way for the kids to learn shapes, colors, numbers and even some basic math, so I don't mind leaving it turned on for a while.

In between the shows, they have little mini-lessons in lieu of commercials. I hate commercials, so this is also another point in their plus column. One of these segments is called "Say It Two Ways". I feel that the segment is a great way for kids to learn Spanish words, but I'm not quite sure about the logic of the words they're choosing.

Let's see....

Lightning: el relámpago

Bat: murciélago

Fire truck: Autocamión de bomberos

Seriously, guys, these are not words that little kids will use in their every day lives. Maybe find something useful for your next segment, eh?

I Guess That's A No...

2010-10-18T19:57:00.000-07:00

8:35 a.m.

Awesomeness: Hey, MisManager, I got your message that you needed to speak with me. Did you have time this morning or is after lunches better?

MisManager: NO! I don't have time right now. I have a conference call and then a meeting with the business partners and then I have to...Ya know what? No one cleaned out that damn popcorn machine and I've had it. No more popcorn machine! They weren't busy on Saturday, I know they weren't, so I can't believe no one took any initiative to...Oh yeah, and since no one is going to work the daily reports for sales opportunities, you might as well just give them to me. I'll work 'em. I need sales too!

Awesomeness: .... okay .... crazy lady

This Means War

2010-10-12T21:17:00.000-07:00

One, two, three, four;

I declare total war.

I declare war on your laziness, EmployeeVonMunchausen.

I have now called you to task on working on your goals for improvement. I am done sitting across from you week after week, listing all of the tasks that you can complete to become a better person, coworker, employee. I have given you resources to aid in your efforts. I have cheered you forward with all the sincerity and positiveness I could muster. In the race of life, you stand lamely at the starting gate. I will not whip you to the finish line.

I declare war on your excuses, EmployeeVonMunchausen.

When you can't get your work done correctly, it's not that I haven't given you answers; you haven't asked any questions. When you can't get to work on time, it's not that traffic held you up; you haven't left home at a reasonable time. When you can't meet your sales goals, it's not that no one's interested; you haven't explained the benefits of the products.

The old saying goes something like, "When you point your finger at someone, the other three point right back at you." If I could, I would have it tattooed on your forearm. Or your forehead.

I declare war on your lies, EmployeeVonMunchausen.

To hear you talk, your doctors expect you to keel over at any moment. To hear you talk, you're the only one in the office that works. To hear you talk, you're the most overwhelmed human being on the planet.

You're unhealthy because you're seriously overweight and you crave the attention that faking sick gets you. Jog, eat celery, smile. Repeat. I just cured your "illness." Shut the fuck up.

You are overwhelmed because you confuse action with accomplishment. I can work all day at a whole lot of nothing too, dipshit. You don't get kudos for working five times harder than you need to at the most basic aspects of your job and not allotting yourself time for the rest of your responsibilities, dumbass.

So what's my battle plan?

Total annihilation. You were 10 minutes late. I gave you a documented verbal warning.

You decided to sit on your fat ass while a client needed your help. You got another documented warning for your file.

You must see the writing on the wall, because you didn't step a toe outta line today. Watch your back EVM, I'm all over it.

The Bowl Burglar

2010-10-09T11:53:00.000-07:00

WANTED:

BOWL THIEF

DEAD OR ALIVE

There are 16 bowls in this house. This number does not include plastic storage bowls or the kids' dishes, only the bowls that an adult would pick out to use for soup or cereal. Sixteen is a lot of bowls. I believe it's reasonable to expect to be able to walk to the cupboard and find at least one bowl. Apparently, I am delusional.

Sixteen bowls in the house. Zero bowls in the cupboard. Zero bowls in the dishwasher. Zero bowls in the sink. Curious.

I know a certain gentleman who prefers to eat from bowls. His blog nickname rhymes with Sister Possum Mess. This nameless suspect has an office that he frequently eats in. This office is not kept in an orderly fashion. To put it nicely, this office reminds me of a possum mess.

I wonder what I might find in there...

I'm guessing 16 bowls.

The Apocalypse

2010-10-06T07:49:00.000-07:00

Imagine yourself in the middle of a 100 + degree desert. You're going about your business despite the unusually high fall heat when all of a sudden:

Yeah, this isn't good. Not at all. Soon it starts raining so hard you can't make out the palm trees in the background. That's not so bad. You start getting hopeful that the power will cut out and you can go home and just curl up with your book.

Then the hail starts up and your thoughts are scattered. "Wow! Look at the size of that shit!" becomes "Wow! I hope my car's not getting dented," becomes "Wasn't it just sunny and 100 degrees, like, 10 minutes ago?"

You're bummed because the power does not go out, but as a consolation prize, the phone lines do. Small victory is still victory. Except when that victory only lasts 15 minutes.

The sky clears and you go back to business as usual trading war stories with everyone you encounter about your memories of the Great Storm of '10.

You notice the sky start to darken again a couple of hours later. This time, the hail -- which was incidentally the size of golf balls -- came first.

This is when you remember that your 2 small children are down the road and the street in front of them tends to flood like crazy. P - A - N - I - C !! But there's no need to fear, your hubby's on his way to get them.

Just in the nick of time too. The street is flooded just above the curbs. Any more water on the road and no one would have been able to get in there without a truck. Or a rowboat.

You're finally on your way home, excited to be on your way to leaving this weather behind you. You start to dream about your fuzzy pink throw blanket and the chocolate caramel flavored hot chocolate you know is sitting in your cupboard.

Then, about 15 minutes into the commute, you realize you're not moving. This is bad. You look over to see other commuters getting out of their car and walking around. This has just now gone from "not good" to "I hope I don't have to sleep in my car tonight."

For 2 hours you're stuck on the freeway, moving about a foot every couple of minutes or so. You've got a hungry and thirsty couple of kids in the back seat of your car. All you have to offer is a snack baggie of Goldfish crackers. Thirty seconds after they're offered up, the fish are gone and you get treated to a cacophony of unhappy children crying. The urge to get out of the car and walk home is now overwhelming.

You're finally diverted off to the surface streets. Hooraaaaa..... oh, damn. Where's the power? Downed power lines quickly give you your answer. The traffic lights are out everywhere. You can see police presence at some of the intersections directing traffic, but they can't be everywhere.

At another intersection, you see the National Guard directing traffic. Later, you'll realize that the men you saw out there didn't have any sort of reflecting clothing on. They were probably just called straight out to direct traffic in the dark. In camouflage clothes. You spend the rest of your commute worried about their safety.

You make it about halfway through the surface streets that will take you to the highway leading to your home. The water is just rushing in little rivulets on the sides of the road. The further south you go, the deeper the water gets. At some point, you realize that it's actually up to the bottom of the passenger-side door.

An hour on the surface streets and you make it alive and well to the highway. By this time, one of your kids is overcome by exhaustion. You're grateful. The other one is entertained by the catchy music you put on to lighten the mood. You don't even care at this point that your four-year old is trying to sing along to "Dick In A Box." You just care about getting home.

Over three hours after you leave work, you finally arrive home.

This was my Tuesday.

Presenting My Ass

2010-10-05T05:54:00.001-07:00

Every other month I meet with a group of my peer supervisors in our market. The meetings are led by MisManager (lucky me!) and two of her counterparts. The meetings are really just good for nothing else besides bringing us together as a group so we can use each other as additional resources. There, so far, is not too much information to be gained there.

In our last meeting, MisManager's team dropped a bomb on us. "Oh, by the way, you all will be presenting the majority of the content for our next four meetings." Oh really. So instead of being subjected to your sage advice, we're going to be half-assing our way through a 45-minute long presentation. Goody! They did let us know we would be paired off, though, so I thought maybe it wouldn't be so bad.

Guess who goes first. Yeah. Me.

Guess who got partnered up with the balding, cross-eyed, stuttering girl with facial hair. Yeah, me.

So, because I'm a shallow asshole, my partner's personal appearance means I can't concentrate on what the poor girl is saying when we have in-person meetings. I've done most of my communication with her by email. It's just better this way, please trust me.

We were charged with the topic of "One-On-One Coaching". At the time we were told that we could talk about whatever aspect of that we wanted, just so long as it was closely tied with the main topic. Great! We chose to focus on the difference between a coaching discussion and a disciplinary discussion. Mostly, I wanted to do this because a lot of times my peers will intermingle the two and they really should be separate.

So we break all the work up in half. I'm the more comfortable presenter, so I took the discussion piece. I had to make up my own notes and materials. It was no problem though. One-on-one coaching is a part of my job that I enjoy and I have a lot to say about it.

My partner's job: tools and resources. There are a lot of different forms that can be used. We also have a lot of good advice and guidelines available to us on the company's intranet site. Best of all, this woman is terrified of public speaking, so this gives her something very structured to put together. She also doesn't have to get overly elaborate, just basically describe the materials she's pulled and call it good.

We met twice before the presentation. The first meeting, she showed me her materials and the fact that she even wanted to organize them into a folder. Beautiful! She sounded confident in her presentation. We discussed some weak points and worked them out. She was good to go.

The second meeting, same thing. There was no way she was going to fuck this up. Except I'm writing about her on my "you're an asshole" blog, so we all know better.

Day of the presentation: she shows up with all of her notebooks and looks confident and then.... she starts telling me that she's not going to do the presentation we discussed. She's just going to hand out her notebooks, but she has no plans anymore to discuss what's in them. Are you fucking shitting me? This is what we've planned for over a month now. Our second meeting was the day before the presentation. What the fuck changed your feeble little mind in one day lady?

I panicked. She was going to sink the whole thing. So what did I do? I talked for 40 of our 45 minutes. I let her mumble on for about the 5 minutes, but I kept directing her back to the materials in her folders. I'm not sure anyone really noticed because they all liked the presentation, but I was on fire when I left there.

Guess who gets to do another presentation at the beginning of next year. Yeah, me.

Guess who's going to beg for a new presentation partner. Yeah, me.

Thanks Blogger

2010-09-24T21:46:00.000-07:00

Thanks to Blogger's new Stats option, I now have to wonder why my blog can be found using the search phrase "the reason therapists don't like guns".

Yeah, that's seriously all I've got right now. Sorry!

If At First You Don't Succeed....

2010-09-19T13:18:00.001-07:00

WARNING: Regardless of what you've read here in the past, I'm normally not a hateful asshole. The following post comes from one of the darkest corners of my heart and, as horrible as it is, I mean every dark, spite-filled word of it.

Dear EmployeeVonMunchausen:

For the past three years, I've had to put up with some craziness from you that would try the patience of a Buddhist monk. For starters, you're a liar. I don't want to hear any more about the 40,000 medical conditions that your 60,000 doctors are currently testing you for. There's nothing wrong with you that couldn't be fixed very easily with some in-patient time in a mental ward.

Please stop trying to tug on my heartstrings with fake stories about being diagnosed with cancer. Your claim of the dreaded "C" word came at a time when you knew you were in line for a disciplinary discussion. That is the lowest way that any of my employees have tried to get out of a written warning. How dare you spit in the faces of people who are sincerely struggling with this deadly illness. Take responsibility for your actions like a grown up.

Anyone who thinks that's harsh: she magically didn't have cancer anymore once a) we administered the warning even after her tearful claim; b) she called Human Resources to verify that we, indeed, had the right to put her on a warning; and also consider c) the kind of cancer she supposedly had changed more frequently than her underpants. Now, if you thought that was harsh....

For three years, I've heard all about your depression. I've heard countless numbers of times about your feelings of overwhelming sadness. You've even expressed a few times that you've thought about suicide. The first year, I was shocked and saddened. I referred you to our employee assistance hotline who put you in touch with a counselor. The second year, I highly recommended that you step up your periodic visits to a counselor or see an actual therapist. You did, for a little while. This year, I'm just ignoring you.

You know what your life means to you. The decision to live or die is yours, just as your decision to continue to live in misery for no reason is yours. If you have decided that your life is worthless and you don't deserve good experiences, then you are beyond my help or advice. Your claims of overwhelming sadness and cries for help are not my problem or my responsibility. I will not try to fix you and I no longer pity you. You mope around making depressing statements about yourself and your life and you expect everyone else to lift you up. You are a happiness leech and I despise you for using us.

Now, you're on an intermittent leave (can call in any damn time she chooses) for "psychological reasons". I know why and MisManager knows why. The rest of the staff has been very unaware of the exact nature of your latest dependability issues. MisManager and I prefer to keep it that way. Apparently though, because you're no longer able to get the responses you need from us, you've moved on to your coworkers. This is unacceptable.

The other day you called in, crying. You don't have to tell me what's wrong anymore and, believe me when I say, it's a relief not to get spoon-fed horseshit. When you came back in the next day, you thought it was appropriate to slip a note to Jailbait that said:

I didn't come in to work yesterday because I tried to kill myself.

He's a 20-year old kid, who I'm sure has not had to deal with the likes of this in his life. It took that poor boy 6 hours to finally decide to come forward and say something to us. He feels responsible for you now. I know this was your intended result and I hate you for it. I hate you with every ounce of emotion that I can stomach wasting on you.

Try to end your life or don't, but don't you think for one minute I'm going to allow you to emotionally terrorize anyone else on my staff you stupid sack of shit.

Very sincerely,

Awesomeness

I Hate The Grocery Store

2010-09-17T05:57:00.000-07:00

Mr. A always goes grocery shopping with me. Part of the reason he always accompanies me is because we carpool and stop by the store on the way home. The rest of his purpose in escorting me through the store is to keep me from stabbing people like this in the eye:

Deaf old lady: You were in no less than 4 aisles with me. In each of these aisles you somehow managed to park your damn cart in front of the one item I needed. For example, if I wanted raisins, you parked your cart in front of the raisins to look at the pudding. You studied that damn pudding like there was going to be a big test on it when you got to the front of the store. "Excuse me please," didn't work. You ignored me.

The Queen of Overshare: It makes sense that you would need to occupy yourself in some way in the checkout line. You brought your 2 kids with you and they were busy chasing each other around, kicking each other and spilling their water all over the place. I guess your only option was to turn around and talk to the girl that's trapped in line behind you. Oh, joy. I now know: where you live, where you work, what you do for a living, the fact that you got a ticket that morning, what you were cooking for dinner that night and about 80 other factoids that replaced useful information in my head. I'm sure of that.

The bigger problem: You separated your groceries into 3 groups: the groceries you intended to pay for in cash, the groceries you intended to pay for with WIC vouchers and the groceries you intended to pay for with your food stamp card. When the cashier rang up your cash items, you came up short. You put some items back and we (eventually) moved on. When she rang up your WIC items, you presented a couple of WIC vouchers that were no good. Ugh. So we finally get to your food stamp purchases. You were 88 cents short. Once again I had to wait while you went through and picked out an item that you could live without.

Half an hour. This is how long I was in line behind her. You would think after half an hour of waiting on one customer constantly blathering in her face that the cashier would be craving a little quiet time. No, this was not my day.

Babbling Betty the Cashier: You are the biggest asshole of the night. When you finally get to my purchases, you felt an almost desperate need to start explaining to me that you were supposed to be off work 15 minutes ago. Less talky, more scanny asshole. You were supposed to be off 15 minutes ago, you stayed late by 45 minutes 2 days ago. I don't care. I really and very, very sincerely just do not give a shit. My silence during your tirade should have been a hint. At the end of my transaction, a coworker walked up and let you know that your manager needed to see you when you were done. Then I had to hear about that. "I hope I'm not in trouble! I mean, I don't think I did anything wrong. She probably just wants to talk to me about my schedule...." Ohmygodshutthefuckupandgetmeouttahere!!!!

This is why I hate the grocery store.

Communication Breakdown

2010-09-01T08:37:00.000-07:00

Dear Speech Therapy Clinic:

Thank you so much for being willing to see my kids on a weekly basis. We were almost stunned that you didn't want to put us on a waiting list like the rest of the clinics in town. We were even more shocked that you all were willing to come out to our house to work with our kids in their own environment. When we get this process going, it's going to make an amazing difference for my family.

Yeah, let's see if we can get there, though. When we started scheduling our weekly sessions, we agreed on Wednesday morning. You quoted August 18 as our start date. I was excited; I even took the day off so I didn't feel rushed at the end of our session to get into work.

August 18, 8:00 a.m.: we're all, all of us, sitting around waiting. At 8:05, I figured the therapist had some troubles finding our house. In suburbia, you almost need a Sherpa. I could forgive that. At 8:15 and no phone call, I started to wonder about our appointment. I call the office and, sure enough: miscommunication. I don't need to point out the irony of a clinic that deals in effective communication having communication problems, right? Well, maybe.

I was told that future home visits were "most likely" set and I would get a call on Monday to confirm the appointment next week. Okaaaaaaaaay... When your "Scheduling Specialist" said, "Every Wednesday from 8:00 - 10:00," I guess I shouldn't have taken her so literally.

Next Monday: no call. I waited until after 4:00 before calling you to confirm my appointment. Your "Scheduling Specialist" said we were a go, and your therapist did show up the next Wednesday at 8:00, as promised. Okay then. One communication error does not constitute a total breech of confidence.

Two, on the other hand, has me on guard.

My kids went in for their initial evaluation in July. The charge for the session went to my insurance and they paid their portion. On August 1st, you billed me for the difference. This was an amount that was substantially more than I thought I would pay. Luckily, my paycheck at the end of the month is not dedicated to any of our bills in any firm kind of way. It was going to hurt, but I could cover it.

Your bill stated that I have until September 2nd to pay. Today is September 1st. On August 31st, I received a second bill dated for September 1st, stating that the amount of the first bill was no longer current; it was posted in the 31-60 day column.

Now, I understand that August has 31 days, and technically if the bill was not paid on September 1st, that it would be on the 31st day. However, this was obviously sent off well before September 1st. You didn't even give me until the date that you set to pay this bill before counting it as past due.

I had plans to stop by your office today anyhow to pay this, as it's on my way in to work. Now you'll get your stinkin' money, but it's going to come with a piece of my mind that might not be worth the trouble. The next time you give me a fucking date to pay the fucking bill, you better motherfucking intend to fucking give me until that fucking day to pay it.

(I might be a little upset over this...)

This Has To Be Illegal

2010-08-28T10:57:00.000-07:00

For once, I don't have a beef with anyone I work with. No, this time my problem is with Mr. Awesomeness's boss. It's about time I got around to this dickhead.

A little bit of background:

Mr. A has been working for this company for 9 ½ years. He started out drafting for them and has slowly worked his way into every other job that the division he works for handles. Eventually, this lead to a sales position. This was a great thing because the salesmen make bonuses. Bonuses rock.

And then the housing market fell apart. This company is a subcontractor for the housing industry, so this was a huge stress. Thankfully, Mr. A was not one of the 75% of the company's employees that were laid off.

Unfortunately, every time someone from Mr. A's division got laid off, his boss just dumped their job into his lap. He now performs the duties that 4 people used to handle.

And that bonus he was supposed to be getting: gone. He's never seen more than a couple of dollars beyond his regular paycheck for all the sales he's pulled in. His regular pay has been the same since 2006. As in, the man hasn't gotten a raise in 4 years. It's a good thing he negotiated a pretty good raise then.

In this job market, this might be somewhat tolerable -- I mean, he could be unemployed, so we can't really bitch too much -- but now we get to the point of the story: Mr. A is a salaried worker who works in the office 45-50 hours every week. Then he comes home and works from home. He has a mobile work phone that, seriously, does. not. stop. ringing. The other morning, when we took a couple of hours to deal with our children at home, his phone rang more in 2 hours than mine does all day.

The reason we had to stay home with our kids is that they need speech therapy. Our kids don't do good with the talking thing. We found a clinic that's willing to send a therapist to our home every Wednesday for a 2 hour session and, with insurance, it's very cheap. I'm excited to do this for my kids; it will really help our family.

When I asked MisManager about the prospect of taking the time off once a week for the next year (yep, yikes), she was accommodating. I work the same number of office hours every week and it's only logical that I should be able to take some of them back. Of course, sometimes there will be meetings and other staffing situations that I won't be able to miss, but they'll be few and far between (hopefully).

When Mr. A asked his boss if he can come in late on Wednesdays, the answer was, "Sure!........... but you'll have to request the time you need in advance and take it all out of your paid time off." Mr. A works well beyond the 40 hours expected of him every week, but if he wants to take any of his hours back, he has to take it out of his vacation/sick time? Wha? He only gets 80 hours per year for sick, personal and vacation time. This is not enough.

What it boils down to is that his boss is a coward. The reason for not making the small schedule accommodation is that the other employees might want the same thing. ANARCHY!! You gutless sack of shit. Most of your employees' work can be done from home or can be done in off hours, but you still want to hold everyone to this arbitrary 8:00-5:00, Monday-Friday schedule. This isn't the 1950s. Technology is your friend.

So now, I don't know what I'm going to do on the Wednesdays that I can't be there. This is way too important for my kids for us to pass up this opportunity. I guess we'll just take this as it comes, but it's still depressing.

Toilet Paper or...Toilet Paper? Hmmmmm.....

2010-08-22T09:49:00.000-07:00

I know it's confusing EVM. When I revamped the office's "Frequently Ordered Supplies" list, I listed toilet paper twice; once under office supplies and once again under cleaning supplies. I did not do this to make your head explode, I was just being a flake.

So when you couldn't find toilet paper in the women's bathroom (because it's kept in the cleaning closet with all the other cleaning supplies), you decided to document your torturous experience in the following email:

We are out of toilet paper in the women's restroom. I had to go into the men's room to find a spare roll. I was going to list the fact that we were out on the new supply order list, but it's written on there twice and I didn't know which one I should pick. - Sincerely confused (I am not making this up) EmployeeVonMunchausen

So instead of asking someone else where the spare toilet paper was kept or checking either toilet paper box on the list, you decided to take the time and draft a dissertation of your harrowing toilet paper adventure. Good call. My response:

I'm not sure why you found this so confusing -- it was obviously an oversight. The next time your faced with this situation, please check one box or the other and, if you feel it necessary, either write in your observation about the duplicate entry on the checklist or just tell someone. For future reference, spare toilet paper is kept in the cleaning supply closet. -- Awesomeness

Don't forget to breathe in and out during your hike to the supply closet EVM. For instructions on how to pick up your legs and feet in a fashion that will carry you in a forward motion, I will follow with a technical manual. Complete with illustrations and shit.

The Popcorn Machine

2010-08-21T06:05:00.001-07:00

Once a month, the company lends our office a popcorn machine. MisManager loves the thing and thinks it's fun for the clients. MisManager does not have to set up the popcorn machine. MisManager does not have to make the popcorn. MisManager certainly never cleans the damn thing.

Yesterday we were shorthanded and everyone launched right in to work (you know, what we're paid for) and MisManager got a bug up her ass about the fact that no one was setting up the popcorn machine. When she complained to me, I just shrugged at her. I'm not messing with the damn thing. I've complained numerous times about how time consuming it is to have the thing there in the first place.

Don't get me wrong, I love popcorn, but I don't think that we need to pop it once a month just for the fuck of it.

Angry that no one else was taking ownership of a machine that no one but her really wants there anyway, MisManager decides to make a schedule. Since no one wanted to set up the machine and throw some popcorn in, now we all have to stand at the entrance and hand out bags of popcorn to the customers when they walk in the door.

Oh hell no. I declined a shift and she said, "This really isn't optional." Oh hell no. The look in my eye must have said, "Bitch, I will ax murder you," because she immediately followed up with, "C'mon, let's discuss this off the floor." That went a little something like this:

MisManager: You know, as a leader, you really need to set a good example for your employees.
Awesomeness: It's a popcorn machine. It doesn't take leadership skills to hand out popcorn.
MisManager: It's a nice friendly greeting for the clients when they first walk in the door.
Awesomeness: We can greet and talk to the clients from our desks...like we always do. And, you know, like, get our work done at the same time. The popcorn is right there next to the door. They can just grab some on the way out.
MisManager: I need you to have my back on this.
Awesomeness: Then stop punishing us for no reason by making us go into the lobby and hand out popcorn when we have work to do.
MisManager: It's not a punishment, and, you know, you're being very insubordinate right now.

This is the part where my fucking head explodes. She uses that term a little too liberally, and always for the most inappropriate circumstances; like this one. I hope she knows that insubordination only applies to reasonable instruction. Something tells me no.

Awesomeness: Don't you dare write me up for insubordination because I don't want to man a popcorn machine that you know damn well I can't stand having here anyway. I. Will. Fight. You.

MisManager must have had a flash of what the write up would look like run through her head at that moment, (On August 20, 2010, you refused to leave your desk and go out into the lobby to hand out popcorn to the clients as instructed. This caused the clients to have to retrieve their own popcorn, which severely damaged this company's reputation.) because she backed down a bit.

MisManager: What would it take to convince you to take your turn out there?
Awesomeness: Turn it into something fun and not a punishment. Maybe we see how many clients we can get over to the sales people (you know, a big part of the work we'd be doing at our desks...) and the winner gets a prize of some kind.
MisManager: *Roots through her desk and pulls out two $10.00 Starbucks cards.* I have these. What if we gave them to the operations employee and the sales employee who gets the most clients to commit to sitting down and talking about services?
Awesomeness: You've got a deal.

I'm not unreasonable, but there was no way I was going to stand in the lobby and hand out little baggies of popcorn and not get any work done for nothing.

By the way, I will be enjoying my 1 ½ cups of Starbucks coffee. Winnah!

Seating Snafu

2010-08-14T09:19:00.002-07:00

Wow, MisManager. You've finally taken your control-freaky antics to a new low. I understand that you see my saying even one word out of line to your sales staff as a usurping of your authority, but I never would have suspected you would see something as simple as the conversation I had with the summer intern as anything but a casual conversation.

Summer Intern: When I come back next summer to learn the sales position, am I going to have my own cubicle?
Awesomeness: Not necessarily. We will always have a place for you to work, but there are only 3 cubicles and they're spoken for. We have a vacant spot at the end of the service department that you'll do the majority of your work out of.

See, we were talking about physical location. Later when I told you about the conversation, you said this to me:

MisManager: When she has those kinds of questions, you really need to direct her to me. Service and operation is your area, sales questions should always come to me.

Um, that wasn't a "sales" question, that was a "where the fuck am I going to sit" question. I don't have a degree in Workspace Organization, but I still feel that I'm qualified to answer this. When I asked you what you would have said differently, you acknowledged that you would have said the exact same thing.

Sooooooo......shut the fuck up.

Double Whammy

2010-08-03T06:00:00.000-07:00

EmployeeVonMunchausen:

I'm done with you. If it were up to me, I would tell you to just stay the hell home. You called in again yesterday. This is now the 7th Monday that you've called in this year. The other days: a Tuesday after a holiday, a Friday (you also called in the following Monday) and the day after you were scheduled for a day off.

To say that I see an unhealthy pattern is like saying I see the sky is blue. I like 3-day weekends as much as the next girl, but you're going to need to bite the bullet and get your ass into work on Mondays going forward.

Oh, and also, I don't know who the hell you worked for before me, but please kindly get out of this mindset that you don't need to give me any information about why you're not making it into work.

Your actual conversation with me:

I won't be able to make it in today. I pulled the daily reports when I was in on Saturday, they're in the green filing cabinet in the middle part under (something unintelligible).

This is really all you have to say to me? (F.Y.I.: we don't even have a green filing cabinet...) I had to dig to find out that you were calling out sick for your ailment-of-the-week: The Blood Pressure.

Lady, if your blood pressure is truly so out of control that you can't stand up, as you claim, I'm sure your tests would not have "come back inconclusive" and your doctor would have put you on some medication. Please come up with a better excuse.

MisManager:

You used to work in Human Resources. Your husband does work in Human Resources. Maybe you should either remember your training or ask his advice before proceeding the next time you lose your shit when an employee calls in.

What did you do? You called EVM and demanded that she come in. Really? I'm just as frustrated as you that she's calling in -- again. Actually, I'm more frustrated than you because I have to do her job when she's not there. Somehow I'm also supposed to write up her documentation and a formal warning while doing her job and my job while she's gone too. Yeah, I'm not her biggest fan right now.

But to call someone who's claiming to have serious health issues and demand she come in? Please. That's a rookie mistake. Especially someone who is as potentially litigious as EVM. Remember that? The whole reason we call H.R. every time she's absent? We've finally got enough background on her to start the disciplinary process, but now she's got a good reason to complain about us too. Thanks for handing that to her.

Oh, and also...

Why are you fighting so hard to make her Employee Of The Month for last month? (Oh no, no one is misreading that.)

She is so unreliable it is beyond believable. She performed so poorly during my vacation, in fact, that I'm afraid to leave her alone with my staff in the office again. I've begun a very serious program of leadership skill training with her because I really need to impress on her that she is far from where she needs to be to lead my staff in my absence. She's either going to take to that or she's going get told that she had better keep to her regularly scheduled job duties.

I don't care that one of the other employees nominated her. She was nominated by one of your sales staff that she helped with one problem while I was gone. An employee who did not incur her wrath at all while I was gone, unlike the rest of my staff. I finally got done unraveling all of that bullshit and I sure as hell am not rewarding her for being an asshole just because she straightened something out while I was gone.

Who Flipped On The Crazy? Part 3 - The Final Chapter

2010-07-21T21:18:00.000-07:00

An open letter to EmployeeVonMunchausen

Yesterday, when I had to take you aside and ask you to get your shit straight, I wasn't expecting a complete turn around. Not only did you come back out relieved and happy-looking, you were chit-chatting and acting like a normal person. I was amazed! For a moment I felt like I must have said something profound -- like in the movies.

Get busy livin' or get busy dyin'. -- Andy Dufresne "The Shawshank Redemption"

I thought maybe I should give up this 9-5 shit and just start inspiring people for a living like that douche Dr. Phil (but with more hair...and less slime). Until you started chit-chatting about the new book series that you're reading. It started out great: you were totally excited about some books that you found. I was happy to hear the passion in your voice as you were describing the plot of this amazing new series. And then the details start pouring in:

It's a teen series.

About vampires.

Or, I'm sorry, people who are "marked" by vampires.

And they have to go to vampire school.

Where they learn to ...? I guess give each other blowies in front of their classmates?

Vampire porn.

You're talking to me about your vampire porn? On a list of things I don't want to know about you, this ranks at #2. It's only holding the #2 spot because I'm sure there's something else about you that will eventually top that. I just hope I never find out.

You're a 33-year old lonely gal who craves attention and has a strong fixation with the current vampire craze. I have a hard time hearing about your smut books without also picturing...

Anyway, for the love of all that is holy, please shut the fuck up about your porno books.

Sincerely,

Awesomeness

Who Flipped On The Crazy? Part 2

2010-07-20T22:49:00.000-07:00

The continuing saga...

I get in to work yesterday, fully anticipating a craptacular time. I was not disappointed. It was moments after arriving that I discover two things: 1) EmployeeVonMunchausen is piiiiiiiiiiiiiiissed about something. I don't really have time to coddle her, so I chose to ignore the shit out of her and 2) the intern was not coming in until later that day. Oh, awesome. Me and Lil Miss Sunshine alone. For hours. Spectacular.

This, of course, does not stop MisManager from calling a meeting with me. She's been dying to give me a report about the things that happened while I was gone. The more she talked the more I began to mentally sort her list of complaints into different categories:

I. The Stuff She Actually Witnessed

She can give firsthand testimony to:

The fact that one of the crew ("Carlos") was spinning around on his chair while talking to his coworkers during some down time.
MisManager brought the whole crew potted flowers. "Carlos" colored one of the 2 flowers that bloomed on my Lead's potted daisy with a black Sharpie. She told him that was rude and she couldn't believe he would do that (he's a 20 year old kid who lives to antagonize my Lead....why was she so surprised?). Then she got mad at him for trying to exchange the defaced plant with his own. She accused him of being ungrateful. Make up your damn mind lady.

All of this amounts to "who gives a shit."

II. The Stuff She Heard From Other People

Not too many details in this category. Apparently when my people complain to her, she doesn't think too much of doing that pesky "asking questions" thing. This is why I didn't want to get too worked up over the list she gave me until I'd had a chance to talk to my people.

She said that others complained to her about:

"Carlos" and Jailbait (hereafter referred to collectively as The Boys) were playing the whole time. They, according to second hand story, partied all week and snapped at anyone who tried to get them to do anything.
The Boys didn't help perform any of the tasks to open the office.
The Boys didn't help perform any of the tasks to close the office.

All of this is stupid petty bullshit that I obliterated with about 2 minutes of investigation. Uh, we have record logs of the times that we interacted with our clients. We also have a checklist that employees initial for closing. It's not hard to work that shit out. Oh, and the strenuous opening tasks: get the mail bag ready and make sure we take the customer pick-up tray out of lock up. Even if they didn't help participate, who gives a fuck?

The conclusion: they helped a proportionate amount of clients and Jailbait himself initialed more than half the crap on the nightly checklist.

This is why details are important. Next time she needs to do what I do when I get this pettiness in front of me: explain to them exactly what they need to "put in that person's file". Yeah....I'm taking you seriously and we're in it together. Gimme the goods, Tiger (that's what she said).... What ends up happening, most of the time, is a lot of immediate back pedaling. That's what I thought. Shaddup!

III. The Only Actual Problem That Occurred While I Was Out

MisManager and Lead were off to a development class, which left EmployeeVonMunchausen alone with The Boys for half a day. I know she was dreading it, but she's been dying for opportunities to show how ready she is for a promotion. There you go EVM. You can do it!

But she didn't. At all. Her big plan to make nice and ensure a pleasant day, was to bake The Boys a pan of brownies. YES!! Then she follows it up with a speech that went like this:

I made you guys some brownies because I want us to have a good day. I want to make it clear, though, that if you screw around I will tell MisManager.

Facepalm.

Oh, EmployeeVonMunchausen, no. You had them at brownies!!! Really, with them you just had to say, "Brownies!" (if you had to say anything) and they would have been your best friends.

This was my big concern because, according to MisManager The Boys were avoiding EVM for the rest of the week and their cooperation and communication totally broke down. Oh man, I do not like coming back to personnel squabbles.

What did I do today?

I got everyone's stories. Funny enough, no one else thought that The Boys were a problem. Hmmmmm... Oh, except for EmployeeVonMunchausen. Surprise! She actually started crying when I talked to her because last week was HELL for her. Yeah, well, that's what happen when you say stupid shit to your coworkers and they don't want to talk to you. Funny how that works.

Things are back to normal now. I declared a "breather" day and we all just concentrated on having fun. Together. Even you EVM, even you.

Get ready for Part 3, however, because EmployeeVonMunchausen has a very interesting idea of how to contribute to group fun...

Sigh. Thanks for the blog fodder, EVM.

Who Flipped On The Crazy? Part 1

2010-07-19T22:34:00.001-07:00

The Monday after vacation is never pleasant, but this Monday was horrible for all the wrong reasons. This will be in 2 parts, as I can pretty much guarantee I will get the rest of the story from my employees tomorrow--if they bother to show up, that is.

Here's what happened before I ever even made it in the door to work today:

I felt a little off. I haven't been feeling very well the last couple of days, and I did have a scratchy throat, but I was in full-on illness denial mode. Until I checked my temperature and, sure enough, 100.2. Awesome. Of course, calling in the day after your vacation is extremely douche-baggy, so I just though I'd go in and hang out at my desk for 8 hours "catching up" on the no work that I would probably have. Not to mention all 20 emails... I could have stretched it out, but then....
Jailbait called in. Was he sick too? Nope. His brand new baby niece was in the hospital, so he stayed there all night with his family. I don't want to be an asshole about that, but that's really not cool. Unless you're going to actually perform the medical functions necessary to save that baby's life, just get some rest and get in to work. We could have made allowances for him to make and take calls from them all day, not to mention an extended lunch to visit in the middle of the day. There were alternatives. And because Jailbait called in...
I was stuck with a sourpuss EmployeeVonMunchausen all day. OH YEAH! Her, the brand new intern and me. Holy crap was I excited about the day. (<--- real irony Alanis)
But before I can start my glorious day, I have to drop my daughter off at the preschool. Her school is currently undergoing some renovations right now to add on 2 rooms, which is outstanding, except when the lady at the front desk doesn't know where to send us.

Typically, what happens is that all of the kids get gathered up into one room until around 8:00 or so and then they're all shipped off to their age-appropriate classes. So we were a little confused when the front desk lady told us to take our daughter straight to her class. We questioned it further when the door that takes you out of the main building and leads out to the classrooms was locked. She said, "It's okay to unlock it. Someone must have accidentally done that." Ooookaaaaaaay....

My daughter's classroom is the farthest away from the main building and we have to cross 2 playgrounds to get there. So imagine how pissed we are when we get there and THERE'S NO ONE IN THE FUCKING CLASSROOM. We walked over to the class next door, where the slightly confused teacher told us to take our daughter back to the main building and put her in the room she usually starts out in.

The trek back was filled with visions of violently shaking the front desk lady. I get my daughter where he needs to go, while Mr. A tells Bad Direction Bertha that she's a dumbass. Her response, "Heehee. Oops! I thought I saw them take the big kids over there." My daughter is a "big" kid only in height. She seriously towers over everyone in her class and even some of the kids in the class ahead of her. However, the lady's been there long enough to know that she's not a kindergartener. I don't know what she was smoking today, but it was good shit.

So now were running late thanks to Captain Dipshit...
And we run into road construction. A megaton of it. Everything is blocked off to one lane (down from 3 + a turn lane) in both directions. Oh my fucking god.
We finally make it to Mr. A's work and laugh about the crappy day we're about to have. Aww.
On to my work, where I do a last minute check in the mirror to make sure I don't look hideous and I found IT. A gray hair. My first. Bummer. I wouldn't even so much care, because at 34 it's just a matter of when anymore, but today? Really?

Then the work day actually started...

(To Be Continued)

Workplace Harassment: The Continuing Saga

2010-07-08T05:51:00.000-07:00

The back story:

A few months ago, we ran a production contest and the prize was a coupon for shopping in the company catalog. Not a super exciting prize, but whatever. We had fun and made our goals.

My Lead employee won (I really need to come up with a nickname for her...) and she was all jazzed about ordering a travel mug. Seriously, seriously way jazzed about this mug.

"Carlos" does the ordering, and was actually placing an order at the time that the contest ended. Unfortunately, he forgot the mug. We order every 2-4 weeks to cut shipping costs, so she had to wait a little longer for her mug.

The next order, she was up his ass about that mug. Until she saw a confirmation, she reminded him every 30 minutes that she expected her prize on the next shipment over. It got a little annoying, but we got her taken care of.

Until we got a notice a week later that the mug was on backorder. It's like the groundhog saw his shadow. It was potentially 6-8 more weeks of a blizzard of bitching. I was hoping for some good news.

Well, we got news. News that the mug was never going to come. Oh, shit. Okay. . . Maybe we can find a different travel mug in the catalog. No. Oh, shit.

Now she's whining about how she doesn't want anything else and she feels like she got ripped off. Oh my god, please shoot me. It took everything for me to not shake her and tell her to just SHUT THE FUCK UP. We're on it.

We were so on it that we start to search the internet for a goddam mug. If we do this, we know we have to pay for it out of our own pockets, but we don't care. We just wanted her to shut the hell up about this mug.

We finally found this personalization website. Thank goodness. We though it would be sweet, after all that waiting, to have the mug engraved with her name. Then we noticed that we had 4 lines of engraving available to us, so we thought it would be funny to put a special message on there for her. Had we known that, in the week and a half it took for the thing to get here, that MisManager was going to take everything we did and label it as harassment -- despite the lack of actual complaint -- we would have thought twice about getting it delivered to the office...

So, during this week's meeting, she announces that our completion certificate for the harassment course is due by the end of the day. She lays out her list of acceptable and unacceptable behaviors and topics. She made sure we all know we would get either written up or fired if she caught us violating the rules.

Ten minutes later, the mug arrives. We were trying desperately to get the girl's attention to let her know that maybe she should wait to open it, but she made such a huge deal about finally getting her mug that a crowd formed. So, in front of everyone, she gets her mug with her special message from all of us:

Dear (Name)
Here's your freakin' mug
Quit your bitching

She loved it! She was laughing her ass off. She couldn't wait to take it home and show her family.

MisManager...not so thrilled with it. So how did I get out of the write up she wanted to give me? By pointing out:

We ordered the mug before this whole mess started.
We ordered the mug on our own time.
We used our own money.

I escaped impending doom, but the sweet mug was thereafter banished from the office. Bummer.

The Eye Of The Beholder's Manager

2010-07-04T09:16:00.001-07:00

Workplace Harassment. We have an online course for it at work. Lucky us, we get to take it whenever it's deemed necessary. Like last week. I'm not going to say that we were angels, but it's not like we were completely out of control. Well, perhaps we were, but I'll let you judge for yourself:

Exhibit 1: On Tuesdays we have a staff meeting. To lead off the meeting and wake everyone up, we play an "icebreaker" game. These exercises are traditionally reserved for meetings where people need to get to know one another, but we do them anyway because it helps wake us up. This week, MisManager was out of the office (as usual), so the employees in charge of the game decided we should all say our favorite pick up line.

I know. Not appropriate. I really didn't understand what the harm was, though. We stuck to the cheesy stuff like, "Did you fart? Because you just blew me away." and stayed away from the sexually suggestive ones like, "Do you have a little German in you? [No.] Do you want some?" Honestly, it's the most fun we've had doing one of those things.

Eventually it got back to MisManager that we had done this in her absence and, even though no one actually took offense and everyone had a good time, she decided that we were no longer allowed to play an icebreaker game when she was out of the office. Evidently, she felt that it was beyond us to tone it down to mere "What 3 things would you bring with you to a deserted island?" games.

Exhibit 2: "That's what she said." Most of us are big fans of The Office. Over the last year and a half that my crew has been working together, we've slowly worked that in (that's what she said) to our office conversation. So when MisManager walks in and says (about our beach themed decorations for a promotion), "You'll have to explain some of that to me...I mean, I get the crabs..." We trip over ourselves to let her know she just left herself wide open (that's what he said).

It's gotten to the point where the two boys have actually spent some of their own money and a good deal of downtime modifying a Staples "That was easy!" (that's what he said) button to actually say "that's what she said," when you push it. I think it'll be a time saver.

Exhibit 3: Two of my four employees were born in Juarez, Mexico. The town is not notorious for being a vacation paradise. As a matter of fact, even to hear them talk about going back, it sounds like all the bad things you ever heard about going to Mexico. Unless you're a woman, then it's a lot worse. You'll be comforted to know, though, that I've been assured by one of my employees that the killing of their women "almost doesn't happen anymore." Yeah...I still wouldn't go there.

So, when my Lead was describing her recent trip home in which she had to carry a lot of bribe money for the police (what you actually say is that you'd like to "buy them a cup of coffee" wink, wink) and she was afraid to go out with any less than 3 of her male relatives, another of my employees ("Carlos") chimed in and called Juarez "ghetto."

Now, Carlos is from the area just outside Cancun, which is a vacation paradise. The comment could have been taken a lot of different ways, but she just thought it was snobby and annoying. She also did whatever an employee should do when a comment bothers them, she let him know she was bothered by it.

By throwing water on him.

This exchange took place after work hours, so there weren't any witnesses to this outside our little group. The girl from Juarez felt that she made her point to the snob from Cancun. He thought it was funny. Everyone had a good laugh.

Except MisManager. For her, this was a final straw. We are now officially "out of control." So, as of her decree last week, all conversation has to be business appropriate. Her exact words were, "Just imagine that a member of the Human Resources department were in the room with you at all times." Oh, and the Workplace Harassment course.

That went well. I decided that we needed to listen to it in between client visits. Imagine my dismay when a client walked in as the lesson began explaining examples of "hostile work environment. This is what she heard:

I can't stand that Ron. I wish he'd go hang out in the corner with the other queers.

Holy crap! Where the fuck is that mute button?! I'd like to say I learned my lesson, but no. Further into the slides, another client walked in on:

...his female supervisor often made sexual comments about his appearance, even going as far as to say she dreams about him naked.

Fuck. That didn't go well.

It wasn't all bad though. The highlight of my week was when we got a visit from MisManager's manager and the regional Vice President. MisManager's manager got a call from her teenage daughter, who wanted to come by and get some money from her. There was some concern expressed over the appropriateness of her dress, then some relief at the fact that "thankfully she's flat-chested." We spent the next 7 minutes or so talking about our breasts.

Suck it MisManager.

For a closer, more frightening look at the murders of the women of Juarez, I can recommend The Daughters of Juarez: A True Story of Serial Murder South of the Border by Teresa Rodriguez.

Good Thing I Wasn't Suicidal

2010-06-24T20:42:00.002-07:00

Lately, more than ever before, I've hated my job. Really, really, really hated it. My slump is coming off the sting of a comment in which my manager couldn't even accurately describe to someone what it is that I do around the office. She didn't even come close.

She has no idea why I'm there.

Therefore, I have no idea why I'm there.

It's depressing. This is the person who rates my performance. Anyway, so I've been moping about this for just over a week now.

Over the span of this time, I've gotten chewed out for the usual:

She delegated a job to someone inadequately equipped to handle it just because she wanted to be "politically correct" and they *surprise!* didn't get it completed. I'm their direct manager, so it must be my fault.
She railroaded a project I was spearheading and made everyone turn in their results directly to her. Then flaked out on the presentation of said results in a meeting. When the team didn't present the information that they said they were going to....yep, you guessed it. My fault. Because I'm their direct manager. I didn't even know what they were supposed to be talking about. I still don't.
She micromanaged her sales team out of a "leadership exercise" that involved members of my staff. When that blew up in her face...somehow it ended up being my group's fault that her group can't lead for shit. Awesome.

And then other random assorted things that I don't even have it in me to go through. I just know that I reached a pretty deep low this morning. I'd had enough of the wallowing in self-pity, though. I did what any person in my situation should do: I sat her down and let her know that I'm very unhappy in my job and I'd like to talk to her about making some changes and coming to a better understanding of my responsibilities.

Her response?

Oh, gosh, I know exactly what you're going through. I felt like that all last week. You should read this email that my sister wrote me. You have no idea ...blah blah blah... then my mom went to this thing and blah blah blah ... and then my brother ...blah blah blah...

So, yeah, it's a good thing that her employee didn't just tell her that she's stuck in a horrible rut and, you know, reach out to her for help or something. 'Cuz she's got enough on her shoulders. Poor baby.

Why Do I Have A Headache Again?

2010-06-15T20:21:00.001-07:00

Why is my head pounding like a 700 lb. caged gorilla? Oh yeah, because:

MisManager
Surprised me with a new summer intern this morning. "By the way, Monica's going to be here at 8:45." That's awesome....who's Monica again? "She's the intern you'll be training today." Not giving me a chance to prepare for her arrival led to a few interesting questions during the orientation this morning, such as...

Uh, so did anyone in H.R. tell you when you're going to be paid?
How many hours per week are you going to work?
Are you expecting a performance review?
Do you know if you'll have performance goals and get incented?

All questions that I could have had answered before she walked in the door had I known more than 15 minutes in advance that she was coming.

Carlos

Kiddo, the new intern is very cute, but you're being ANNOYINGLY OBVIOUS about noticing her.

Next time you work with her can you try to only mention the fact that you're working out after work less than a dozen times in a ten minute conversation?
The fact that you're looking for a house to buy is only impressive until she finds out about the other piece that you forgot to mention: you still live with your parents and the house is actually theirs.
You don't have to brag about having a pool. You live in Arizona. The anomaly is not having a pool.

Hooray For Technology!

2010-06-07T22:36:00.000-07:00

I've wanted to change my blog template for a while now. I like the little voodoo guy, but it was just time for something tailored specifically for me. Two problems:

I'm way too cheap to pay someone to do the work.
I didn't have a theme in mind anyway.

So I found a cheap program that let's you generate your own blog template. It's called Artisteer. (I only had to pay them $49.95 to plug their product.) It's cool and extremely easy to use. I love it and I'm probably not going to leave the house for the next 3 weekends because I'm going to be piecing shit together just for the hell of it.

Awesome. Hooray for technology!

Also, F.Y.I., Windows 7 Media Center is the reason I won't leave my house for approximately ... any other weekend. Ever.

*I don't get paid for endorsing anything. Ever.

Forced Initiative Works! Oh, Wait, It DOESN'T.

2010-06-05T06:36:00.001-07:00

As a manager, a significant portion of my job is to coach, train, motivate and otherwise develop my employees. I'm constantly looking for ways to keep them engaged in what they do and inspired to move on to the next level in their career progression.

The primary system that I've used over the years is to test them thoroughly in every potential front: sales, administration, technical skills, leadership, communication, resourcefulness, initiative, etc. After determining what they excel at, I just simply appeal to their strengths and let them know what their smarter choices will be. Then we train from there, working to refine their strengths and enhance their weaker points.

I'm now in my 8th year as a manager for this company and, compared to my peers, I've had enormous success retaining employees (the newest of my current set have been there for almost 2 years) and promoting and developing them. This is the part of the job that I love the most and would do exclusively if I were allowed.

Regardless of any of my ongoing success, MisManager and I will still have conversations like this one:

MisManager: So what are you doing for the next 30 days with your employees?

Awesomeness: Well, first I've decided that with "Carlos", that I was going to harness his ability to have fun and have him use it for good instead of evil. (Seriously, he's so much fun to work with, but so hard to keep on task....unless the task is to have fun.) So I thought that he could come up with games that we could play every Friday and get our clients involved. I think it would be good for everyone else also, to help keep up our energy at the end of the week. What do you think?

MisManager: Well, honestly, I don't know why he's the only one that gets to do something fun. You should really spread the wealth on that one.

Awesomeness: Maybe I didn't explain correctly. He would just be producing and coordinating the activity. Everyone will play though.

MisManager: Yeah, I get it, but I still think that everyone should take a turn coming up with the games.

Awesomeness: Well, sure, if they have ideas then we're certainly open to them. The point of assigning this, though, was to give "Carlos" an ownership in his job and allowing him to do something he excels at.

MisManager: You're not being fair to anyone else on your staff though. You think that "Carlos" is the only one who's fun? What about Jailbait? (Jailbait's been his nickname in a few other posts, so we're just going to stick with it since it's 5:45 in the morning and I'm not done with coffee.) He's a lot of fun too, and you would know that if you gave him a chance.

Bitch break: FUCKING SERIOUSLY?! Look, I work with these guys day in and out. I know how much fun everyone on my staff can be (even Employee Von Munchausen has her moments), but I also know that coordinating group events is not Jailbait's strong suit. As a matter of fact, he cringes when I ask him to do anything similar. He's not an "idea guy," nor is he a strong implementer. When I try to explain this to MisManager, this happens:

Awesomeness: Jailbait is a lot of fun, but we established a long time ago that he's not interested in putting together games and activities.

MisManager: Well, it's not like it's all that difficult and he has the time to do it, so you should think about "Carlos" and Jailbait taking turns doing this.

Awesomeness: No. I'm not okay with forcing job assignments on people who have no interest in doing them.

MisManager: Fine. He should at least be partnered with someone though. Maybe he should work with a member of the sales team. "Blah" (I'm calling her "Blah," because she's just a very bland person. Even when she's in the office she's easy to forget because she just stays at her desk and doesn't really talk to anyone.) is thinking she wants to be a manager some day, so maybe she should take the initiative and work with him on this.

Awesomeness: {Resisting the urge to have her look up the word initiative in the dictionary...... losing......losing......winning a little more......a little more.......okay, crisis averted.} She can work with him on this, but I'd like for him to take the lead since this is his job.

MisManager: Well, I thought that since she's in the senior employee that she could really take this on and run with it. Heading a project will give her great leadership experience.

So, to recap, the job that I completely made up out of nothing to give to one of my employees, she has now hijacked and given the lead to someone who thinks "fun" is a type of exotic dessert. *Face palm*

Awesomeness: I think this is getting too complicated. I'd really rather see him work on this alone. I'd like to see where he chooses to go with this. If you'd like to develop "Blah" as a leader, then maybe I can help you find a different project for her.

MisManager: I don't understand why you won't give anyone else a chance with this. You really need to work on your skills in developing your people. It means that you give everyone a chance to succeed at something.

OHMYFUCKINGGOD! You cannot be serious. Oh, no she is. Dead serious. So the plan now is to take someone who has no personality and no sense of fun or adventure and have them head up an assignment to energize everyone. I give up.

This Friday was the first week we were going to play a game and what did we do? FUCKING NOTHING. Why? Because it was "Blah's" job as the SuperLeader to schedule some sit down time with "Carlos" to talk about game ideas.

Can you guess what happened?

"Blah" took no initiative whatsoever to speak with "Carlos". Now "Carlos" is no longer motivated to do this because he has no ownership in it. Way to suck the life out of your staff with your bungling MisManager.

I Double As A Pack Mule

2010-05-31T21:48:00.001-07:00

Mr. A:

Tuesday (on our way into the grocery store): "Hey carry the car keys for me."
Thursday (switching cars): "I don't want to leave the stereo face in the other car. Put it in your purse."
Friday (on the way home): "I stole this candy from the jar at the front desk. Carry it for me."
Monday (after a doctor appointment): "I don't want to lose this prescription. You hang on to it."
Wednesday (after meeting a gabillion vendors): "I don't have anywhere to put all these business cards. Stick 'em in your purse for me."

GGGGGGRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!

Awesomeness: You know what I'm going to get you for Father's Day?
Mr. Awesomeness: Huh?
Awesomeness: A man purse.
Mr. Awesomeness: You know I would never use that.
Awesomeness: You use a purse almost every day. It's about time you packed it around.
Mr. Awesomeness: What are you talking about?
Awesomeness: All that crap I have to carry around for you in my purse.
Mr. Awesomeness: What crap? I almost never ask you to put things in your purse.
Awesomeness: You've asked me 5 times in a week.
Mr. Awesomeness: I think you're lying.
Awesomeness: [quick recap]
Mr. Awesomeness: Yeah, but it's not like I ask you all the time. Before last week, when was the last time I asked you to carry something?
Awesomeness: The week before last when I was packing around your insurance card.
Mr. Awesomeness: .....I think you're lying.

Ladies and gentlemen, the Father's Day gift:
http://www.ebags.com/product/kenneth-cole-reaction-business-and-luggage/ask-the-mess-es-canvas-messenger/150644

It's even on sale right now.

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Pigpen:

2010-05-28T21:43:00.000-07:00

You know, when cartoons want to portray a nasty stench coming off of someone, they draw the stink lines. Sometimes it's a stink cloud or a stink fog. This was based off of the two of you in real life. You all were the worst smelling people I have ever had the displeasure to encounter in my entire life. This would include the homeless guy who lives in our dumpster.

You obviously haven't bathed for months. While some might applaud your water conservation efforts, they would stop applauding and keel over dead if they came within 5 feet of you.

Let's start with your heads. Dandruff is gross enough, black dandruff is terrifying. Like they could write that shit into horror movies. If either of you looked like you've worked a day in your life, I might give you the benefit of the doubt and assume it's, like, tar or something, but you've obviously not been in public for quite some time.

Your foreheads had thick, chunky layers of gray. Your clothes would sicken maggots. But it was your feet that will haunt my dreams for years, Mr. Pigpen. Curling yellow and black talons on toes that were all pointing at one another. The rest of the foot looked like a cross between an ad for Hobbit Lamisil and the before pictures from Ped Egg.

I dared not look at your face when you smiled or talked. I can just imagine the putridness emanating from your mouth. The concept alone will help me fast for a week.

Before you stop by to see us next, please call and let us know. I'll have the boys put on some hazmat suits and meet you at the door.

Suck It Netflix

2010-05-20T21:54:00.001-07:00

So you're a cheap date. While I appreciate that, I don't appreciate not even getting what little I pay for. The debacle over Sherlock Holmes was our fault. I mean, who knew that some asshat made a spoof movie with a horrific looking GIANT OCTOPUS and, uh, DINOSAURS and DRAGONS shit. Next time, we will read the little synopsis before renting.

Do not rent.

These last two discs you've sent us, however, have had so many scratches that we haven't even been able to watch the movie we borrowed. One of which was The Invention of Lying. We got to see about 15 minutes of it before the disc completely crapped out. It wasn't ohmygodthebestmovieever! but we were entertained and would have liked to see the rest of it. That's really saying something too, because Mr. A doesn't usually tolerate movies with Jennifer Garner in them as he bitches the whole time about being distracted by her huge, manly jaw.

We have finally gotten the Sherlock Holmes that we wanted to begin with. I'm not sure whether or not I like it, but I will say that it's funny to watch Robert Downey, Jr. land roles playing a genius.

Yup. Just like Wile E. Coyote.

The Eye Exam (Or How Mr. A Almost Died This Weekend)

2010-05-17T20:23:00.000-07:00

Saturday was my annual* eye exam. I dread them because I'm just waiting for the time when the optometrist tells me I can no longer wear my contacts. It hasn't come yet, but I know it's around the corner and I'm going to ~~stockpile contacts like crazy~~ cry a lot and put my damn glasses on.

This year I also made an appointment for Mr. Awesomeness. He hasn't had his eyes checked since his exam for the Army and that was in 1996. He's always had better than 20/20 vision, but lately he's been complaining that his vision isn't as sharp as he's used to. I thought it was past time for him to go see the doctor.

Mr. A went first, and while he was getting his exam, the doctor's assistant did all the fun tests with me, like the glaucoma test and that shitty test where you have to click the button when you see squiggly lines.

I really hate that test. The squiggle test. What the fuck is that all about? They tell you to concentrate on a dot in the middle of the screen while little squiggly lines randomly flash up. My vision starts to go gray about every 5 seconds and I have to close my eyes for a second to clear it. Then I get all paranoid that I missed some squiggles, so I click the button about every 3 seconds or so whether or not I see the lines.

In order to perform the tests, they asked me to take my contacts out. After it was over, they had me leave the contacts out and take a seat until the doctor was ready to see me. Now I'm sitting in the waiting area completely blind. At least the staff thought it was funny. When it was time for me to be seen, the assistant says, "I know you can't see me right now, but just follow the bright white blob." Ha ha, very funny motherfucker.

My eye exam took longer than usual. It took me a while to fill the doctor in on all my previous eye drama, eye drop allergies, etc. Also, for some reason, the squiggly line test produced some "interesting" results....(whoops!) so she had to measure my vision in my left eye using manual tools. Then she squirted dye in my eyes because she wanted to see my scars. (My eyeballs are totally macho.) All together, my exam took about an hour.

I thought for sure that Mr. A would be totally ready to go when I got out. Nope. The ladies at the front counter inform me that he's been waiting for me to be done so I can help him pick out glasses. Glasses? Bwahahahahaha! I asked him, "What did she say you need them for?"

"Well, she didn't really say. I guess I would just wear them while I'm driving," he said. What the fuck? How could she have missed telling him when he would need to wear his prescription? She seemed like a pretty sharp lady, so I was pretty sure the confusion was all Mr. A's.

Since he was going to wear them for driving, we settled on getting him a pair of prescription sunglasses. This process includes: looking at every prescription-ready frame at least twice, trying them all on, looking at them in a downward angle, looking at them in an upward angle, testing the hinges. Old ladies don't put as much effort into this. When he finally settled on a pair, I had to check my phone to see what year it was.

$55 for the frames and the lenses are covered. Awesome! Let's go!! Nope, we need the special blue tint. Fuck. Then he needs some other expensive tint or it's going to fuck up his mojo or something. Shit. Then the dipshit lady adding up all of his completely unnecessary add-ons can't work the computer. Iwillfuckingkillyoulady!! By the time she was done, it added up to a ridiculous $110. Ugh.

After an hour and 15 minutes, he's finally checking out. Oh. My. God. Finally! Then out comes the optometrist. Her day is done. Or she was retiring. I couldn't tell. She was a little surprised that we were still there. Me too.

After we left, I told him about how my appointment went & I asked him about how bad his eyes were that he needed glasses.

I'm not sure why I need glasses. She said that my eyes were still at least 20/20. She only tested for 20/20, though.

So, to recap, I spent an hour and 15 minutes picking out and expensively customizing glasses for a motherfucker who has perfect vision.

I wanted to punch him right then.

*by annual exam, I mean as annually as I remember

I'm Sorry I Can't Take Your Call, I'm Busy Getting Stabbed In The Face

2010-05-11T21:54:00.000-07:00

Imagine you're in your home, reading your favorite blog *ahem* when you hear a funny noise. It kind of sounds like crunching glass. You say a cuss word, get up and start walking to the source of the sound.

As you round a corner, (whichever one, it's your house, pick one) some huge guy cracks you in the face with a crowbar, then proceeds to terrorize you for hours on end before finally getting bored and smashing your skull in.

Do you, at any point, stroll over to the neighbor's house to inform them of your situation?
Do you call a time out to answer the phone?
What's the likelihood of someone noticing the point of entry from outside your home?

Now, let's say you're a smart cookie and install a burglar alarm. 'Cuz, then, when shit like this goes down, the alarm goes off and the police will come right out and save your ass.

Right?

Right Avondale, Arizona?

Right now the city of Avondale is considering adopting something called Verified Response. What this means is that the police would only respond if either the alarm company asks them to or it's been verified that a crime is taking place. Their defense is that they waste a lot of man-hours and paperwork on responding to false alarms.

I understand, but when I'm being pinned to my floor with my nail gun and then ass-raped by some AIDS-infested ax murderer, my one hopeful thought is that, thanks to my burglar alarm, help is on the way.

Because I don't live in Avondale.

Firefox, You're Fired

2010-05-09T08:29:00.000-07:00

It's just not working out Firefox. I love your applications, but I can get the same functionality from other browsers. You know, ones that don't inhibit my internet usage.

You crash in the stupidest places. Like when a pop up window opens. Is that really too sophisticated a process for your programming?

I need to be able to do uncomplicated things like follow other cool blogs or comment. Granted, you've probably saved me some face by stopping me from making an ass of myself, but I don't appreciate the censorship. If I want to embarrass myself in public, what business is it of yours?

So, I'm giving Google Chrome another chance. I never really gave it much of a shot after I fired IE about a year ago. You've been warned, Google: any attempts to save me from myself will also get you fired.

This Ain't No Pony Show, Lady

2010-05-06T05:37:00.001-07:00

For three years I've put up with, what I've come to think of as "The Pony Show." Once a month, MisManager's boss comes in for 1/2 a day to meet with her and see what we're up to.

The days leading up to this meeting:

"Now, when she talks to you, make sure you tell her about the thing you're doing with the stuff."

"Yes, ma'am."

"You might also want to mention the story where you did that thing that was cool."

"Yes, ma'am."

"And do you remember last week when you helped that client do that thing that they were really happy about."

*sigh* "Yes, ma'am."

Then her manager comes in and I get to put on a big, fake smile and recite my lines like a good little girl.

Recently, though, MisManager has gotten a new manager. One that I've known for about 9 years now. This lady actually trained me when I was hired on and I've been working with her in some capacity or another ever since.

So, earlier this week we went through the normal prepping and polishing ritual. MisManager calls me in to talk to the boss. Boss cuts her completely out of the conversation and has a rapid-fire series of questions that have nothing to do with my prepping.

Ahhhh, I love that woman! Actual conversation is so refreshing.

And MisManager...picture her sitting behind her desk, looking visibly disturbed. To the point where her boss called her out on it.

Bwaaaaaahahahahahahaha! Suck it, MisManager. The days of The Pony Show have ended and I couldn't be happier.

Tolerable Amounts Of Deadly Particles

2010-05-03T20:57:00.000-07:00

I'm not a big fan of doctors. It's the entire reason that I have to be pretty much dead before I go see one. Really, my opinion is unfair. It's mostly based on unreasonable expectations that follow this sort of logic:

It's a doctor's job to save me from death.

Saving people from death is super.

As in superhuman.

Doctors are superhuman.

When they act less than superhuman, it bothers me worse than, say, when a waiter forgets my side of ranch dressing. Why? Consequences for lack of ranch dressing are not life-or-death.

My distaste has been shaped over the years by some not-so-stellar run-ins with medical practitioners. For instance, when I was 18 years old I decided that I needed to get the Depo-Provera shot. Even though I didn't have a boyfriend and was certainly not sexually active right then.

Anyhow, one year later I went in for my physical. I'd gained 30 lbs. and was severely depressed. After she remarked on my tremendous weight gain, I start crying and looking for some encouragement and guidance from my gynecologist. Since the only change in my lifestyle I'd made over the last year was the shot, I asked her if stopping the shot would help me lose it all again. She said:

The shot doesn't make you gain weight. It just makes you eat more. And it also causes depression, which also makes you eat more. Just use some self-control.

Fucking what?! Apparently this lady flunked Logical Consequences 101 and How To Not Be A Dickhole To People 205.

And now...

My kids were sick last week, so we took them to urgent care. (I think if we visit one more time we get a free toaster.) They had a constant, high fever for about 4 days, so we were fighting it with Tylenol and Motrin as necessary.

Imagine my horror when both Tylenol and Motrin are recalled by the manufacturer. We checked the lot numbers and, sure enough, we've been feeding our kids Liquid Death for almost a week. Terrific.

So, when I took my kids in for their follow up appointment, I explained to the nurse that I was also concerned that they'd been taking these meds. I was wondering if there were any particular signs I should be on the look-out for. The nurse had no idea that there even was a recall.

Awesome. Well, that's okay. Maybe the memo hadn't gotten around yet. (I obviously don't know how nurses get their health news.) Then the doctor comes in and I ask her the same thing. She says, "Yeah, the nurse was just telling me about that." Seriously?

She asked what the recall was for and I told her. Too much active ingredient, "particles", and inactive ingredients that "don't meet testing standards."

In my head:

Particles = arsenic, napalm, asbestos, semen, uranium, anthrax

Don't meet testing standards = ingredients are too stupid to be in medicine and will kill us all with their ignorance

Then she says:

"Well, it's a good thing that children's doses are established well below their level of tolerance."

I'm sorry, was I supposed to have a smug chuckle with you over that? My kids have been pumped full of Agent Orange for about a week now and I'm supposed to breathe a sigh of relief because they got it in "tolerable" amounts?

Fucking jerkoff.

She examined the kids and discovered that my daughter now has an ear infection. Great! I thought she was 100% better and ready to go back to school. Ugh. I collect the prescription for antibiotics and we're on our way.

I get to the pharmacy near my house -- a 30 minute drive away -- to turn it in when I notice she made the fucking prescription out for my son.

Sigh.

doctorsarepeopletoo doctorsarepeopletoo doctorsarepeopletoo doctorsarepeopletoo doctorsarepeopletoo doctorsarepeopletoo doctorsarepeopletoo doctorsarepeopletoo...

The Bet

2010-05-01T09:36:00.001-07:00

Normally, I would say that Mr. A is a pretty bright guy. I would absolutely claim that he is a lot more observant than me. So a conversation we had this morning had me at a loss.

Background: We have a dishwasher and use the dry soap cakes (used to be called Electrasol, but now it's...whatever it wants to call itself). In order to keep track of whether the dishes in the washer are clean or dirty, we automatically load a soap cake into it every time we unload the clean dishes. So, for the last 4 years:

Soap = dirty
No soap = clean

I'm not quite sure how this conversation happened:

Mr. Awesomeness: Are these dishes clean or dirty?

Awesomeness: Is there soap in there?

Mr. Awesomeness: Yeah. There's always soap in there.

Awesomeness: ?

Mr. Awesomeness: (with just a hint of snarkiness) That same cake of soap has been in there for months.

Awesomeness: No, we keep replacing it after every wash. (Why am I saying "we"?) Remember? Unload the clean dishes, put in a new cake of soap, now we're all ready for the dirty dishes.......?

Mr. Awesomeness: ....... I think you're lying.

Awesomeness: Start the dishwasher, then. I bet there's no soap left when it's done.

Mr. Awesomeness: You're going to cry when I win.

Who Do You Hit With Your Purse?

2010-04-26T22:10:00.000-07:00

Your choices are:

Cell Phone Screamer

Don't laugh. This is not really that far off from what she actually looked like.

When Mr. A and I get to the grocery store tonight, this is all we hear on our walk to the front doors:

"...AND THE KIDS WERE ALL CRYING AND THE ADULTS WERE CRYING AND I WAS ALL LIKE OH MY GOD WHAT'S GOING ON AND THE POOR KID COULDN'T EVEN TALK AND THEN THE GIRL WHO DOES THE YOUTH MINISTRY YOU KNOW MARY WELL SHE WAS ALL CRYING AND I WAS LIKE WHAT HAPPENED AND SHE WAS ALL OH MY GOD SHE HIT ME AND I WAS LIKE WHAT!! OH NO SHE DIDN'T! AND SHE WAS LIKE SHE TOTALLY DID AND I COULDN'T BELIEVE SHE WOULD DO THAT SO I CALLED..."

Holy Hell, lady. If you talked any louder, you wouldn't even need a phone. I don't care if the person you were talking to lived in Pittsburgh, they could've heard you clearly.

Your other purse slapping choice is:

Mr. A

He's handsome and shit.

After about 15 seconds of listening to Cellphone Screamer, he decides to VERY loudly mock her. So I'm stuck between her stupidity and...

"LIKE OH MY GOD! I'M TOTALLY IN A PARKING LOT AND I CAN'T TALK LOUD ENOUGH! I DON'T THINK THE PEOPLE ON THE OTHER END OF THE COUNTY CAN HEAR ME! MAYBE IF I TALK LOUDER PEOPLE WILL PAY MORE ATTENTION TO ME! WHAT?! WHAT?! I CAN'T HEAR YOU BECAUSE SOME JACKASS IS YELLING OVER ME RIGHT NOW..."

Okay, I added that last part.

So who do you hit with your purse?

Out Of Commission

2010-04-25T10:06:00.000-07:00

I have the Plague.

This last week was spent in a lather, rinse, repeat-style cycle: Work, home, cold medicine coma. I did have the opportunity to observe some people in true fuckwad form, but I couldn't stir myself from the clutches of pestilence long enough to care or write about it. I'll try it now (as I am not currently on any medication....I probably should be, but I'm not).

What brought on the ass clowns? A network outage. Yep, for 4 hours we had no access to client information. We Scooby Dooed together a weird backdoor access path to some of their info. I was actually pretty impressed by the ingenuity. Otherwise, we would have had to turn away about 90% of the people who came in for services that day.

The other 10%, well we had to turn them away anyway. As in: "Dude, I will call you when we're back online and take care of you over the phone so as not to inconvenience you further, but right now there's nothing we can do."

Where did this get us?

Fuckwad #1: "You people are ridiculous! I can't believe you can't access my information. What else are you good for?"

Oh, again with the 'you people'. I fucking hate that shit. And how were we ridiculous again? Network outages happen everywhere that computers are networked. It's the law of computers. What else are we good for? Well, anything within our scope of responsibilities that doesn't require a computer. It just happened that the only thing you needed today involved us accessing your records. Sucks. I'll call ya later.

This fuckwad called us assholes on the way out the door.

Fuckwad #2: "Can you tell me....?" "No? Okay." "Well, then can you tell me....?" "No? What the fuck?!"

Seriously, what part of "no access to those records" do you not understand? I'll call you later with the information you're requesting. CHILL OUT!

This fuckwad flipped us off on the way out the door.

Fuckwad #3: "You people are making a big mistake."

I didn't even know what to say to such a ludicrous statement. He was the only person who walked in during the Great Information Blackout of 2010 who we couldn't even identify as a client because our cutesy little backdoor access shenanigans didn't work with him as he was just a proxy. Also, what exactly was our mistake? Causing the outage? We didn't. Not just making up the information he needed? We couldn't, we're really not that creative. Not pulling out our magic wands and abracadabraing the computers back to life? Fuck, you got us.

This fuckwad spent 15 minutes in our faces cussing at us before leaving the office, still cussing and threatening our jobs.

Dude, you can have this job. Dealing with shithead assholes like you is not something anyone gets paid enough to do.

The computers came back online 15 minutes after Fuckwad #3 left. No one called him.

Speechless

2010-04-17T18:59:00.002-07:00

The week before last I didn't post because it was a fun week. I actually enjoyed work. It started out with EVM showing up late on Monday (in spite of her "miracle cure" shot), but then it just got better from there. (Namely when she took off on vacation so I didn't have to listen to her bore our clients with the repetitive "I feel okay now...I'm just taking this one day at a time." This isn't fucking A.A., you dumb attention whore.)

So what's my excuse this week? I visited The United States of Zombieland. Tuesday afternoon I was very suddenly overwhelmed by sinus pain and pressure (I'm not trying out for a Benedryl commercial, but I did put an employee of the company's kids through college this week. You're welcome.) and by the end of the day, my eyes were swollen and my throat was closing.

I went home and immediately took 2 Benedryl. Normally, I'm not one to take 1 of anything muchless 2, so I was basically in a coma within the hour. The next morning I woke up and looked like this:

I knew it was going to be a horrible day when I went to make coffee and started pouring the coffee grounds into one of my son's bottles. I also should have taken the hint when I: couldn't remember for a while how to turn the TV on, fell down the stairs, almost left the house with no shoes and locked my son in my room.

All of this screams: "CALL IN SICK, YOU IDIOT!!" However, I have the opposite problem as EVM; I refuse to admit to being sick, or I'll admit it and severely downplay my symptoms.

I went to work for 6 hours before everyone told me to go home. I've been feeling better since then, but I still don't have a voice.

So what do I do on my first of 2 days off? I rested...

Fooled you! I got up at 4:00 this morning and painted a fucking house. Not just me, other people from my company, but what the hell was I thinking? Around 10:00 my right ear stopped working. I thought, "Huh, that's peculiar... I'm going to see if they have any good deals at Kohl's!!" I think I have a mental disability. Seriously.

By the time I was in the checkout line paying for about 25 items that I had to have (but couldn't describe to you now to save my life) my ear felt like it was about to rupture. Seriously, I thought I was just going to hear a huge *POP* and my brains were going to splatter all over the bitchy lady in front of me. (I was aiming at her as best I could.)

This is one of the necklaces I bought. I love it!!

I also learned how dirty my dresser is today...

I made it out of there alive (I should probably type it as "alive") and raced home, my ear brutally murdering the rest of my head the whole time.

Oh wait. I didn't.

I volunteered to pick up lunch for everyone first.

Somebody help me. I am a complete tool.

I almost forgot to say that I don't get paid to advertise for anyone. As a matter of fact, I shelled out huge wads of cash to both companies mentioned in today's post. It's kind of ass backward, but whatever.

How About 52 Weeks Of Leave?

2010-04-03T09:59:00.001-07:00

After the last 2 weeks at work, I've had it up to my eyeballs with Employee Von Munchausen's shenanigans. She is chronically "sick" (for attention - hence the Munchausen) and she calls in on days when we really need her the most.

The shit move she just pulled has permanently cemented her spot on the top of my shit-list. I don't even want to work with her anymore. The problem?

She intentionally fucked us all over for 2 whole weeks just so she wouldn't get fired. Stay with me on this.

By the end of last year, she had proved herself so undependable that we needed to place her on a final "get your shit straight or you're fired" warning. All we're asking is that she take care of herself so she doesn't miss so much work. Rightfully, I hired her to work 40 hours a week. I actually need someone to work those hours as we do have a lot of work to get done.

The company we work for has a reasonable amount of sick time allotted to employees -- 6 days per year accrued at a 1/2 day every month. You can take your sick time before it's accrued, but by the end of the year, they ask that you don't exceed the 6 days. For the average employee, 6 days is more than enough.

EVM doubled that last year and that wasn't even including the 5 weeks of short-term disability leave that she took. She was absent a lot last year.

The terms of her warning were that she not take her sick time this year before it accrued. I knew this would be hard for EVM since she was "sick" on the 12th of every month (give or take a couple of days) for the entire first half of 2009. I'm not kidding. By April, I was calling that shit.

The Monday before last, she leaves me a voicemail indicating that she tweaked her back and it hurts so bad that she can't get out of bed. I call her back to hear her coughing a lung out. She needs to go to Urgent Care because she has a fever and can't stop coughing. Really? I asked her if she coughed so hard she threw her back out. I wanted to make sure she understood that I picked up on her very drastic change of ailments. Oh no, the back thing was something different. "So is someone taking you to Urgent Care, because your back being out and all, I don't think you should be driving..." Yeah, I'm not letting that go, asshole.

Monday turns into Tuesday when now she "has walking pneumonia". The doctors want her out for the rest of the week.

This last Monday she calls me again, "I'll be out for some time now. My fever is out of control and it's not breaking so they want to do more tests on me." Really? I'm not a doctor or anything, but I'm assuming that if you go the doctor repeatedly with pneumonia symptoms and high fever that lasts for more than a week and is "out of control", that they'll probably just admit you to the hospital.

So I asked her where she was calling from. "Oh, I'm at home." Were you admitted to the hospital and now you're home? "No. I've just been on the phone with my doctor." Your doctor's performing the tests over the phone? "No, he's sending me to the emergency room for testing." They ... he ... what? Okay, our pediatrician did that with us when our daughter got sick, but we actually visited the office... "Anyway, so I'm on my way to the emergency room and I won't be back this week at all."

I'm not stupid. I know what's happening here. EVM is taking some time off, but doesn't want to get fired. I get that, but all she needs to take to qualify for Short-Term Disability is 4 days. Why 2 weeks?

The only conclusion I've been able to reach (based on her very obvious and awkward lies) is that she couldn't get a doctor to sign off on her Short-Term Disability papers, so she had to keep ramping up her "symptoms" until she found someone.

Congratulations on your exploitation of the FMLA system. In the meantime, EVM, I've been doing my job and your job for the last 2 weeks. 2 very nice people from other offices have also pitched in to help do your job for the last 2 weeks. One of our sales employees has lost sales to also help cover your job for the last 2 weeks. MISMANAGER actually got off her duff to help cover you during the first week.

I went back to work the day after having a wisdom tooth removed to help cover for you. This was a much needed personal day that I cancelled. This is also not to mention the fact that: 1) last Wednesday your absence left me as the only representative of our department in the office 2) I have strep -- like, real strep and also possibly an ear infection and then finally 3) *TMI ALERT* cramps from Hell. I don't mean to overshare, but this was not the most stellar week for an undependable piece of shit to let me down.

I actually felt kind of bad for my uncharitable thoughts when she left me a voicemail Tuesday night explaining that she is being rushed to the emergency room because her heart is beating out of control. Don't worry, it was short-lived, because Wednesday morning she calls me at work and says, "Guess what! They gave me a shot and now I feel super!! I'll be back to work on Monday for sure." Really? Just a shot? What was in that miracle shot? A dose of Reality or a Clue maybe? You didn't get a miracle shot, you just got some lazy ass doctor to believe your lies and sign your papers, you douche. When I asked her whatever came of the heart thing, I get, "Oh, they ran some tests and it turns out I was just stressed, but now I'm fine." You were stressed that you wouldn't be able to get your papers signed, dickweed.

And then, just the final kick to the teeth, when I tell her that we're incredibly busy and I have to end our conversation she says, "I kind of want to feel bad that I couldn't be there, but I don't. You know, I've gotta take care of myself." Oh no, everyone knows you're looking out for #1 EVM. There's no misunderstanding there.

While I Was Attending My Pity Party...

2010-03-28T22:01:00.000-07:00

I just put this up because I was hoping someone could explain it to me.

This does not sound like a good time...

I just realized today that I've been blogging for over a year now. This blog was actually started on Valentine's Day last year. In celebration of actually sticking with a hobby for more than a month for once, here is a rundown of my favorite posts from all 3 of my blogs (the ones I didn't delete or abandon over the last year...):

That's Disgusting! or Look At Me! I'm A Total Copycat! This one made the list because I was just thinking about it today as I fished: a bottle cap, rubber bands, dirty socks, a sneaker and some artificial flowers out of my boy's mouth.
How 'Bout A Nice Warm Glass Of 'Shut The Hell Up'? Wow, this is one of my favorite moments of the entire year, period. It was just a brief conversation between me and Mr. A where I got fed up with him assigning me sole custody of the kids. Karma, you are my best friend.
DVD Makers This is still something I bitch about a lot. I'll tell ya who the worst offenders are: Dreamworks. Fuck you Dreamworks. These jerks have actually devised a way to make the DVD freeze if I try to skip to the main menu. When it does this, I have to actually get up, eject the disc, reinsert it and start all over. This goes completely against my lazy, impatient nature.
Pink Eye Even though she isn't mentioned by her special nickname, this was my introduction for Employee Von Munchausen. This one made my list of 'favorites' because right now she is on an opposite list. I can't wait for her to show up for work tomorrow so I can find out what flimsy mystery illness she stumped her doctors with all last week. If you want to play Dr. House, M.D. for a moment, here are the symptoms: severe back pain, fever and coughing. Sounds like lupus to me.
Some Girl This entry represents an entire year of sleep deprivation posts. There were about a million of them on Monsters. Thank goodness those days are finally over. I thought it would never end.

It's been a fun year (+) and I sincerely do want to thank the people who bother to read this stuff. You guys are the best!

What's A Girl Gotta Do To Get Some R&R Around Here?

2010-03-25T13:08:00.000-07:00

A: Just ask for some time to herself. I mean hell, her husband's a perfectly reasonable guy who can see she's clearly at the end of her rope. He'd be happy to take the kids off of her hands for a few hours while she gets her shit straight.
B: Book a trip to a day spa and lie to her husband. "There's a big work convention on the other side of town today. We're going to have to take separate cars. See ya at 6:00!"
C: Stage a world class freak-out. Scare everyone enough to toss you into a mental hospital. I hear they have to keep you there for, like, 3 days for observation.
D: Book a trip to your oral surgeon to get a wisdom tooth removed. Hell, drugs and all the naps you want. Fuckin' SCORE!!

So, let's see how we did here. If you selected:

A: You're obviously new to my blog. Mr. A would rather scuba dive naked and weaponless in blood-infested shark territory than watch the kids for more than about an hour at a time.
B: I'm the worst liar on the planet. It also doesn't help that Mr. A is the most suspicious person on the planet. Put us both together and I'm the most honest woman alive and he knows where I'm at and what I'm doing better than I do. This will come in handy if I'm ever kidnapped, I'm sure.
C: You're close. I'm probably capable of this and over the last couple of weeks I've actually (not seriously) considered the upsides of this plan. However, being labeled a crazy person and possibly a potential danger to myself and others -- particularly my children -- is not a part of the plan that I can live with, so this will never work.
D: DING DING DING DING DING. You get a cookie.

After my last appointment with my dentist, I was advised to get my wisdom teeth pulled. Not that they were really bothering me, but they occasionally do. I have one -- oh, excuse me, had one -- that was fully grown in and that one was a pain in the ass. It grew in sideways, so it was always pressing into my cheek. It was also hard to get a tooth brush back there, so when the dentist discovered a cavity in it, there was no way I was going to be able to muster a convincing shocked face.

Up until the time I sat in the chair at the oral surgeon's office, I was determined to get all 4 of my teeth ripped out at once. The surgeon showed me a "What To Expect" video, then explained to me that it was not really all that urgent to get all 4 of the teeth out. The one that was grown in, yes. Absolutely, no doubt, but the other 3 could wait potentially up to 10 more years. So, that's when I had an idea. An awful idea. A wonderful, awful idea.

If I were to get each of my teeth removed one at a time, then that would be 4 occasions that I could just sit by myself in my room. Movies, computer, books, water, chocolate pudding, Percoset. NO KIDS, NO WORK KIDS, NO WHINY CLIENTS, NO MISMANAGER, NO MR. A.

I am an evil fucking genius.

Who Are The People In Your Neighborhood?

2010-03-24T05:42:00.000-07:00

To the neighbor who lives directly behind me:

Stop looking over the fence into my yard. Yeah, I know it looks like crap, but I really don't care. We're never in the yard, so we don't feel like wasting time and money on it. When I look out every now and then to see your weirdo head pop up, I just want to make a mad dash for the pellet gun.
Your dog is not a lawn ornament. When you leave it out all day, that barking that you hear...well so does the rest of the neighborhood. The sound is not just contained to your yard, asshole. We live at a spot that's conveniently located around 2 airports and an Air Force Base. Every time a plane flies overhead -- which is roughly every 5 minutes -- the critter goes insane and we can't really hear much of anything else for the next 15 minutes.
And now that it's night time, do you hear that other noise? That would be howling. Your dog does that all night long. Maybe it keeps you up too. We've got so much in common. Well, except for...
The 40 tons of dog crap that's piled up in your back yard. You know, I don't need the creepy ladder to look over the fence into your yard. I've got a second story window. My view is supposed to be of mountains. I find myself distracted by the sight of your backyard shit hills.

If you don't get your act together soon, I may be forced to break into your house, dress you up in fur and leave you in your shit-covered yard in 115 degree heat for a day just to see how you like it.

Yeah, I Got Nuthin...

2010-03-21T19:08:00.000-07:00

The last couple of weeks I've been hiding under a rock. I haven't really been doing it intentionally. I log in every day, check out other people's blogs, stare blankly at my dashboard, then log out again.

The bad times started when my daughter got sick, then plummeted downhill when I got sick, took a turn for the worst when Mr. A got sick, then when my daughter got sick...again...I just gave up. Fuck this. I'm tired of having the "should we take her to Urgent Care" conversation. Unfortunately, that's the only conversation I'm actually capable of right now.

Here's how I've been occupying my time since my brainpower has completely deserted me (if the Blogger bugs don't kill my post...I know there's nothing wrong with my ENTER key, Blogger):

Police Women of Maricopa County

I was very curious as to how TLC was going to present this. It's a show about the women who work in the Maricopa County (Arizona) Sheriff's Office. This is my 'hood. I was hoping that they would show women who have managed to master the art of being assertive without turning into a harpy. Women who were wise and patient when they needed to be, then could ram a boot up an ass when the situation called for it.

Instead I got women who were obviously dolled up for the camera. They get sent out either on complete crap assignments or into situations where they're obviously there to get the cameras on the scene.

One officer was on the trail of a dangerous deadbeat dad. That scene ended with pepperballs and K9 dogs. He wasn't even threatening anyone with a weapon or taunting the cops. He wasn't wanted because he killed the baby of a nun while it was holding a puppy. He just ran and hid in a shed.

There's another officer who is a 'negotiator', which is scary to me because she's inarticulate as all hell. She reminds me of the reject contestant from American Idol this season. The one who jumped up and down in front of the mirror. "You're wicked awesome!" She gives off an intensely stupid vibe. Even though, I do have to give her points for using the word 'ironic' correctly in a sentence.

The one scene where she's actually supposed to talk a guy down, the dude kills himself. I think it was the easy way out of talking to her.

They keep sending one woman (the only one I actually like) out on very obvious shit calls. One where a crazy woman swears that her disabled roommate is running into her room at night, peeing on her, and then running away before she can catch him. Now, this lady also had about 15 or so dogs running all over her house. Additionally, she didn't look all that stable herself, and was absolutely a good candidate for some bedwetting. Crazy woman made the cop take her panties away in a paper bag... I could NOT do that job.

Now that I'm all on a "portrayal of females on TV" kick, the kids have picked up on a new Nickelodeon show:

Team Umizoomi

This is a video of the end of every episode where they encourage your kids to fake a seizure.

Team Umizoomi is a brother/sister superhero team that pairs up with their robot friend "Bot" (I won't make fun, I have a cat named Kitty). The robot takes calls on his belly screen and can also somehow produce whatever random items they need to complete their mission.

The brother is Geo. He can make things out of shapes that spring out of his belt.

The sister is Milli. Her super power? She makes pretty patterns with her dress. She also measures things with her ponytails. I think they threw the measurement thing in there just to make her seem a little more useful. Really, though? Geo can make a ruler with his shapes or Bot can just pull one out of his ass. So how useful is Milli? So useless. Your main power is to look pretty, honey.

And just before I absolutely lose the last of my mind, I find a show that reminds me that I'm not at all a bra burning, bushy-pitted feminazi:

The IT Crowd

Thank you so much Netflix!

Of course, I can't embed a clip, so here's a link instead.

The IT Crowd is a British comedy (stay with me!) about a woman with no knowledge of computers who gets tossed into the basement office of a company's I.T. department. The show was so damn funny (not really the pilot, but the rest of them) that I wasn't even offended in the slightest when they based most of the 2nd episode on the woman going shoe crazy and insisting on wearing shoes that were 2 sizes (at least) too small.

So with any luck, and about 20 more hours of sleep, I should be back to my old, crotchety self in no time.

Oh, Fuck You Tuesday. I Hate You.

2010-03-02T20:47:00.000-07:00

Hey, Tuesday! Eat a dick.

This was my day in all its incoherent glory. Just like I experienced it.

Start @ 5:00 a.m.
Alarm
Coffee
Shower
Clothes
Wake 3-year old
Car
Commute
Preschool
Traffic jam
Accident (someone else's)
Broken traffic light
Meeting
MisManager
Send employee to OtherOffice (surprise!!!)
Ah, more coffee...
Maintenance guy is here!
Did you have to do that today?
Another maintenance guy is here for something else!
Phone!
The maintenance guy you REALLY need is still not here!
Hey, I have a question....
You have a call....
Are you done yet?
Goodbye MisManager, I'll see you in an hour
Don't forget we still have to....
Phone!!

12:00
Lunch? No.
Client emergency!!
No, this client has a bigger emergency!
You have 2 calls...
Can you sign...?
Can I show you...?
Can you help me with...?
Have you gotten that done yet?
PHONE!!!
Do you know when I'm working 3 weeks from now?
WHERE IN THE FUCK IS MY MAINTENANCE GUY?
(10:00 tomorrow, pure awesomeness)
Attempted crime
SOMEONE ANSWER THE FUCKING PHONE!
Lunch? Hell no.
I think I messed up...
Is MisManager coming back today?
Awesomeness, I can see you have 12 things you're working on, but can you just...
Phone!
Can you help me with...?
Can I take your number and call you back?

2:30
Lunch? Finally!!
Before you go, can you help me with...?
I know you're trying to eat, but can I show you?
Do you know where ____ is?
There you are! Blah, blah, blah (pigeon drama)
Phone! (seriously?)
Hey! Uh...nevermind.

3:00
MisManager! Thanks for gracing us with your presence.
A meeting? Do I have a choice?
No, MisManager, that's not a company policy, that's your policy.
No, MisManager, that's not a company standard, that's your standard.
No, MisManager, that's not something we need to have a meeting about. You just misunderstood what you heard.
No, MisManager, I don't have a shitty attitude, you're just being a sensitive douche.
No, MisManager, this is not a productive conversation.
Yes, MisManager, we should postpone this discussion. I'll see ya next month.

3:30
More attempted crime?
Can you take a look at...?
Can you sign...?
Before you go sign that can you...?
Phone!
OH HELL NO!
No sir, I said oh hell no.
Hi, this is ____ from another office. Your client is screwed and it's not your fault, but you need to somehow fix it. 'Kthanxbye.
My voicemail light is shiny.
Can you help me finish...?
Sign here
Sign here
Sign here
Sign here
What's wrong with this machine?
I can't find something even though I've looked at it twice...
Phone!

5:30
Preschool
Pissy pants crybaby
Who's pants are these?
Commute
Dammit! That doesn't belong to her!
What are you eating back there?
Why are you making a yuck face?
No, we're not going to the store.

6:40
Home
Dinner?
Mmmm...chili cheese fries...
Sssoooo hungry
All right dinner's ready!
It smells awesome

BBBBBLLEEEEEEEEEEEEGH!

What the fuck is that?
Floam
That's what she was eating in the car. Shit.
Totally not hungry anymore.

Is it bedtime yet?

From Dark Cloud To Broken Heart

2010-02-27T10:56:00.001-07:00

The saga of the departure of MisManager took a few interesting twists over the last few days. By interesting, I mean infuriating and disappointing.

I spent the first part of the week still enjoying the idea of my liberation from the shackles of her Bungle and Bail management style. It was as if my fairy godmother finally heard me crying in the garden, waived her magic wand and banished the wicked stepmother and a wicked stepsister to Hell.

Later in the week:

MisManager: I am not going to be able to take EmployeeVonMunchausen after all. She's under the care of a psychiatrist right now for severe depression and I think that she would be too fragile for the transition to the other office.

Awesomeness: It's too bad that couldn't work out. (I had a feeling it wasn't going to work out anyway. EVM drives MisManager up a wall just as much as she does me. I was expecting this.) Don't worry though, you'll fill that position pretty quickly. I'm sure there are dozens of good candidates.

MisManager: I don't really want to train someone new. I'm just going to take JailBait.

Awesomeness: *head explodes*

JailBait is my #2 employee and is currently being groomed for the Lead position when it comes available. There's no way I'm letting this kid go without a fight.

Awesomeness: Are you sure JailBait would even want to go?

MisManager: I think I can talk him into it. Because the situation at the other office is what it is, I'm sure I can offer him a salary increase to transfer.

Awesomeness: *lost in a wash of bleak dispair*

I can't make a counteroffer. I can propose increases, but they have to be signed off by someone on MisManager's level. I'm sure she would not help me sabotage her.

MisManager: And I've decided to take someone from the sales team. I really want to take the girl I just hired.

Awesomeness: She just got here. Would HR let her transfer since she hasn't been here for a year?

(A year is our minimum time frame that an employee has to commit to in each office before transferring or -- in most cases -- being eligible for promotion. It keeps people from hopping around from place to place and position to position.)

MisManager: They're pretty desperate to get me into this position. I'm sure I can get them to make an exception.

So, here's a quick rundown on what this all means:

the office she's transferring to is in a desperate state because it's missing a manager, sales person and an operations rep.
she's taking over at that office as the manager, but she wants to take 2 of my office's employees to fill the other open positions
she's taking 2 of our best employees and essentially putting my office in the same position as the office she's taking over

Her justification:

MisManager: Awesomeness, you're such a strong trainer that your crew really runs well short-handed. This office has a great reputation and I'm sure you'll have an easier time filling these positions than OtherOffice did.

Oh, the flattery. So because I do my job well, my staff and I will be punished and we'll have to shoulder the hardship of trying to fill 3 positions while keeping our heads above water. Fucking outstanding.

Awesomeness: My concern is that you're creating a situation where the company is just transferring a staffing crisis from one location to another. This doesn't actually solve anyone's problems as now we will have to have an interim manager and other offices will have to rally to our side to help us out as they're doing right now with OtherOffice. It takes months to find and train a manager. It takes at least a month beyond that to fill the other 2 positions. It would continue the strain we've seen on our market and the steady decline in overall productivity from the last 4 months. We have a lot of good things going on right now and I can't believe that anyone in upper management would think that this is a reasonable solution.

(That's right, I'm putting on my Big Girl/Guilt Trip/Voice Of Reason Boots and kicking her in the teeth with them.)

MisManager: I don't think it'll come to that. They're telling me that they have an internal candidate that's eager to fill the manager position here. As for the sales and operations positions, you'll get first crack at the employees I was considering for those positions at the other office.

Awesomeness: Why can't you just hire and train those employees? If they're that good and they're ready to come aboard, then you all would only struggle briefly until they get on their feet. (and for the replacement manager...I know she's lying...)

MisManager: I really don't feel like dealing with all of that. I'd much rather just move over some seasoned people and start off over there with a good advantage. That's absolutely my bottom line.

At least she's honest about that. To which, I have nothing more to say to her. My only hope at this point is to go with Evil Plan Z and pull something immature and back-stabby. I talked to NewGirl and JailBait. Both of them instantaneously assured me that they would rather blow a goat than transfer. PERFECT VICTORY!!

Later in the week:

MisManager: I just wanted to let you know I decided not to transfer to the other office after all. I wasn't able to work out an agreement with the employees to make the tranfer (BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!) and it would be too much of a struggle to try to start over. Aside from that, the other staff already resents me (I wonder why...) and I don't want to work with a staff that fights me on everything.

So a rundown on the last development:

MisManager wanted to make her transition to the other office cushy for her by stealing away good employees
I tried to reason with her by showing her what a diva, dickwad move that was, but she insisted on being an inconsiderate tool
I countered her dastardliness with bastardliness and FUCKING WON the battle
I lost the war, however, as now that her master plan is in utter ruins, she no longer wants to leave

On the bright side:

I didn't lose 2 of my best employees
I helped save our office from months of long days of pulling double or triple duty having to cover the missing positions
I can continue to write scathing MisManager posts for my blog (lucky me)

The Faucet

2010-02-24T20:32:00.000-07:00

The faucet in the kitchen has been leaking since...well, roughly the beginning of time if you believe Mr. A. We've been putting off getting it fixed because a) faucets are strangely expensive and b) Mr. A is lazy. When he does get into the mood to actually complete something, it's all I hear about.

For an entire damn month, not a day has gone by that I haven't heard:

"We absolutely have to replace the faucet this weekend. NO. EXCUSES."
"Look. Look at the way the water is coming out of the back."
"Do you smell that? It's because the water is running down the back of the counter and leaking into the cupboard."

Every day. So, last weekend I cashed in some of the rewards points I got for spending my ass off on my credit card and got a $250.00 gift card. Instead of the Kohl's card I normally get so I can buy work clothes. You can imagine how I feel about the faucet card.

Today's the day we go get the faucet. We were going to go buy food, but what the hell, right? Priorities. We get to the faucet aisle where Mr. A turns to me and says, "Just pick whichever one you like. I don't give a crap about the faucet."

YOU STUPID MOTHER FUCKER!!!!! YOU'VE BEEN GIVING ME CRAP FOR AN ENTIRE MONTH AND NOW THAT I GAVE UP MY KOHL'S CARD YOU DON'T GIVE A SHIT? DO YOU ACTUALLY THINK I GIVE A RAT'S ASS ABOUT A FAUCET?

Now that some time has passed and I've had time to reflect on his actual words, I think he was talking about style, which I know he does not give a shit about. [Note to the boys in the audience: what Mr. A should have said was, "I don't care what it looks like, but I know you do. Go ahead and get what you think looks good. I'll be happy so long as we walk away with one."] At the time, however, I was debating whether or not to punch him out, take the keys and ditch him in the Lowe's faucet aisle while I made a run for Kohl's.

This faucet is what we ended up with (not my sink...I mean, yeah, it totally is...)

Please note, however, that it will not look as good on my ass as a pair of new dress slacks. I could also use some new shoes.

I kept the receipt for the faucet.

The Great Mystery Critter Caper

2010-02-22T19:27:00.000-07:00

There's something in the ceiling at work. Something skittery. (Firefox says 'skittery' isn't a word, it wants me to say 'skittles' instead, but I definitely mean skittery.) The maintenance dude swears it's a pigeon. He says he can hear flapping. Well, we actually do have some pigeons up there too, but this is a mammal.

Judging by the sound it makes, the thing has little, sneaky feet with claws on them. Yes pigeons have talons, but IT'S NOT A FUCKING PIGEON! Ahem. Anyway, this thing is also fast. It covers 15 feet in less than 5 seconds. On it's feet. See, Maintenance Guy, it can't be a pigeon. (No I didn't Google average land speeds for pigeons and I refuse to.)

We think it may be a rat. Or a small cat. Or perhaps a baby raised by rats or small cats. Or an armadillo. Whatever it is, it's making the ceiling tiles bow in. Right above my head. All day long.

Exterminator couldn't make it out today. Tool, you'd better be there first thing in the morning. I'm not listening to the sounds of "Death From Above" all day again.

Somebody Pinch Me

2010-02-18T21:05:00.001-07:00

MisManager: Please try to keep an open mind about what I'm going to tell you. This is good and bad news.

Awesomeness: Which means it's bad news that you're going to try to throw some kind of tin foil silver lining on, just so you don't have to tell me you have bad news & bad news. Don't worry, I'll just smile and nod.

MisManager: (laughs) Yeah, well...pretty much. They've asked me for the third time to take over at the other office (she's been covering them for 4 months now) and I just can't argue with them anymore. I don't really want to go, but....

I'm not even listening to her anymore.

Awesomeness: Well, that's a bummer! Wish ya luck!!

MisManager: Actually, that's not all. I said I'd be willing to go if I can take a couple of members of staff from this office with me. EmployeeVonMunchausen would be my first choice...

Again, I'm not listening anymore:

MisManager, you just made me forget what I wanted to say about:

the douchbag at the preschool with the double stroller
the cleaning crew at work
the weirdo taking photographs of our building when I showed up yesterday
the dickhead maintenance guy who won't look in the ceiling for the dead animal up there....seriously, I know it sucks, but man up dude
Mr. A (I tallied up 'our' fast food purchases for last month...$387.00)

I had some good contenders, but I'm having a hard time hating anyone right now.

The New Diet

2010-02-14T11:27:00.000-07:00

I think I finally found a great way to lose the rest of the baby weight. It's the best appetite suppressor in the world: obnoxious, non-stop, random lunch blathering.

We have another business partner at the office that I affectionately refer to as 'Clueless Magoo'. This guy. Two or three days out of the week he infests a corner desk and proceeds to inject himself into every conversation. Except, instead of enhancing the flow of discussion with his own witty insights, he changes the topic to something no one cares about and then Doesn't. Shut. Up.

We're having a fun conversation about the episode of Divorce Court where a wife wants to leave her husband because "he's gay". Just because a guy likes to give his buddies back rubs and kiss them, it doesn't automatically make him gay... The debate is raging on when Clueless Magoo walks over:

Ha, ha, ha. That's funny. Hey do any of you know when The Eagles are coming to town? April? Do you have tickets? No? Are you going? Where are you buying your tickets? Who are you going with? Don Henley is my favorite! After George Bush, he's my all-time favorite Texan......

Yeah. This is annoying enough during work hours, but when I'm on my lunch break, I just want to zone out and eat and not talk about:

football conspiracies
H1N1 conspiracies
garage doors
The Magna Carta
audiobooks
his Prius
retired basketball players
potentially defunct home builders
the fact that he and JailBait are both wearing striped ties today
ponderings over when the maintenance team will finally clean the pigeon crap off of our building
insurance claims
the fact that he's a vegan (if I have to hear him quip, "I'd eat that ___(insert food with meat in it)___, but it's against my religion," one more time I will punch all of his teeth out. . . he can just boil his veggies.)
whether or not he can pronounce everyone's name in German (that keeps him entertained for, like, half an hour)
the aesthetic properties of duct tape
mountain men
negligent homicide (I wanted to side-step this one for a lot of reasons)
Coventry Cathedral

The list just keeps growing by the day. I spend my whole lunch staring blankly at him, nodding. "Uh huh." "Uh huh." "I dunno." "Sounds reasonable." "Nice." "Cool." "Hmmm..." "Mmm hmmm." "I'll check that out some other time." "Wow."

By the time I realize that I haven't touched my food, it doesn't actually matter because a) my appetite is gone and b) my lunch is over.

I'd leave for lunch, but I'm supposed to be 'accessible' to my team (hoooray for being salaried!) and also the neighborhood we work in is kind of scary. My other alternatives: eating in the supply closet or the vanity area of the women's restroom.

The vanity has a table. And tampons.

Am I Awesome Enough To Pull This Off?

2010-02-07T12:12:00.000-07:00

Probably not, but let's give it a shot anyway. My big 'tool' story from the end of the week is fairly complicated. It involves a lot of back story and inside-joke explaining. I thought about not writing about it, but then again, I love a challenge (and I have nothing else to write about). So, please bear with me.

Meet FussyFranco:

Age: 40ish

Spirit Age: 12

Likes: Playing annoying pranks and bitching

Dislikes: Jokes directed toward him

Origin: Montreal, Quebec, Canada

Quote: This is not something I think I should see when I go peepee.

'Franco' is our business partner. He is rarely in the office. When he is there, he likes to play pranks on us. Not funny pranks, however, completely retarded ones like: putting lotion in the earpiece of our phones or taking the track ball out of our mouses. One day, I came back from lunch to find all of my paperclips scattered all over my desk. I heard a distinct twittering, girlish giggle coming from the back area. Yeah, that's....hilarious. Or something. It took me 1/2 a second to sweep them into a trash can and get on with my day.

'Franco' is originally from Quebec and, while not actually a Frenchman, I often refer to him as 'Frenchie' because he is a prissy, snobby little twerp. Oh, and because he really hates being called 'Frenchie'. "Ooops, sorry, I'm just an ignorant American that doesn't understand the difference....(prick)"

Meet CarlosTheComedian:

Age: 19

Spirit Age: 9

Likes: To make people laugh

Dislikes: Stuffy, uptight dickwads

Origin: ...uh, somewhere in Mexico

Quote: "Hey, Awesomeness, you should totally come to work dressed like a panda bear. That would be sweet."

'Carlos' is my newest employee. He's a fun-loving kid. He is a bit mischievous, but never malicious. He somehow manages to get his work done in spite of his shenanigans, which is probably his most endearing quality.

Lately, 'Carlos' has been on a health kick. On a slow Saturday, he drew a picture of himself with, like, a 12 pack of abs and captioned it 'Carlos the beast 2 months from now.' This picture got copied and plastered all over the office.

Two weeks ago, while Carlos was helping at another office, we took down his buff pictures and replaced them with a picture of him looking like Fat Bastard captioned 'Carlos the beast 2 months from now'. We all had a good laugh over it. We left the pictures up because they just rule.

Meet EmployeeVonMunchausen:

Age: 33

Spirit Age: 96

Likes: Attention

Dislikes: Lack of pity

Origin: Juarez, Mexico

Quote: "My stomach feels like it's on fire and I'm peeing blood, but I think I'll make it."

If Melman and Gloria from Madagascar had a baby, it would be EmployeeVonMunchausen. She has his personality and her physique. I would say more, but that's pretty much all there is to her.

So "The Incident":

On Thursday, Franco comes strolling into the office and starts bitching because I didn't notice him for almost 5 minutes. (I was working, you know, like sometimes people do while they're at work.) He's yammering on and on about how he's just going to call me next time...(really?) when I notice his appearance.

Franco is usually dressed in either a primly pressed button-down shirt or an equally wrinkle-free polo and dress slacks. His hair is normally gelled up in carefully manicured 'I care about looking like I don't care about my hair' spikes.

On Thursday, Franco was wearing a maroon v-neck sweater, white button down shirt and maroon and gold striped tie. His hair was completely flat and combed off to one side.

Exactly like this, minus the robe, glasses and wand.

Without thinking, I asked, "What's up with the Harry Potter look?" He (thankfully and surprisingly) took no offense and complained that everyone's been teasing him about looking like a college kid all day.

When he walked away, Carlos started laughing and asked if I really called him Harry Potter. He was impressed and I was totally his hero for the next 30 minutes or so.

About 15 minutes later, I was sitting with a client in our lobby when I hear Franco yell, "That is not appropriate! I am offended. Do you really think that's funny?" What the hell is he getting his panties in a bunch over?

He pulls me aside and proceeds to chew me out for 20 minutes because Carlos called another employee to tell her that I called Franco 'Harry Potter.' Ugh, seriously? I was the one who called you names, you douche. So now I have to sit through, "I can't believe how mean he is. I am not going to go to HR, because I don't want to get anyone in trouble, but I was very offended. That was totally uncalled for...." Yadda, yadda, yadda, yadda....

Then, Franco starts bitching about the 'Carlos the beast' pictures. "I can't believe you would leave those offensive pictures up. Think of how bad EmployeeVonMunchausen must feel when she has to look at that fat drawing that looks just like her all day..."

And the Toolie Award for Straightest Face After The Stupidest Comment goes to...

Awesomeness

Honestly, no one -- not even her -- had thought about that. The pictures are clearly labelled 'Carlos', which takes all the guesswork out of who we're poking fun at. If anyone who normally works at the office would have been offended, it would have been EVM and she would have complained to HR by now.

And the Toolie Award for Biggest Spazzy Crybaby goes to...

Franco

The Toolie Award for The Most Ironically Offensive Complaint goes to...

Franco

Wow, dude, I think you're going to sweep all your categories!

Now, the final award is the Annual 'Swish And Flick: Harry Potter Look-Alike' Award and it goes to...

Franco

Don't forget to thank me in your speech, dick.

Don't Be A Complete Tool

One Down, One To Go

Interpreter Needed. Inquire Within.

Stop! Just Kidding...Go Right In

Checking Back In

Note To Self

You Dirty Bastard

Riffing

Of Course You Like Him....

Well, Thanks For Showing Up....I Guess

Please Help Us All

The Week From Hell

Does He Know He Already Works For You?

Other Things Left Unsaid

Your Timing Is Off...And Other Fun Memories From Today

I Guess She's Sad Or Something

How Do You Know You're Bored?

Professional Dress Code

Way To Take Things Personally (Very Long...So Sorry!)

The Waterbed (A Follow Up To "Waterbed City")

Shitty Service Pediatrics

Why We're Horrible Parents: Reason #163

Waterbed City

Coldmageddon

First, Start With Your Eyeballs...

My Crazy Week, Part 3: The Stabbing

My Crazy Week, Part 2: Pimp Daddy

My Crazy Week, Part 1: The Applicant

How To Piss Off Your Boss

January 19, 2011

Taurus (4/20-5/20)

The Strangest Thing Happened....

I Know I'm Missing Something

It's Dead, Jim

Righteous Indignation

Build Your Own Hell

Online Articles

It's Ebola...Or Karma

I Have A Life ... Or Something That Closely Resembles One

The Rules of Engagement

Unhappy, Eh?

Update: Breaking News!

Breaking News!

No, Diego, No!

I Guess That's A No...

This Means War

The Bowl Burglar

The Apocalypse

Presenting My Ass

Thanks Blogger

If At First You Don't Succeed....

I Hate The Grocery Store

Communication Breakdown

This Has To Be Illegal

Toilet Paper or...Toilet Paper? Hmmmmm.....

The Popcorn Machine

Seating Snafu

Double Whammy

Who Flipped On The Crazy? Part 3 - The Final Chapter

Who Flipped On The Crazy? Part 2

Who Flipped On The Crazy? Part 1

Workplace Harassment: The Continuing Saga

The Eye Of The Beholder's Manager

Good Thing I Wasn't Suicidal

Why Do I Have A Headache Again?

Hooray For Technology!

Forced Initiative Works! Oh, Wait, It DOESN'T.

I Double As A Pack Mule

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Pigpen:

Suck It Netflix

The Eye Exam (Or How Mr. A Almost Died This Weekend)

I'm Sorry I Can't Take Your Call, I'm Busy Getting Stabbed In The Face

Firefox, You're Fired

This Ain't No Pony Show, Lady

Tolerable Amounts Of Deadly Particles

The Bet

Who Do You Hit With Your Purse?

Out Of Commission

Speechless

How About 52 Weeks Of Leave?