Stressful day today. I felt like I was rode hard and put away wet. I really am exhausted, exhausted from trying to be nice to people when all I want to do is go home and go back to bed. One of our visitors spotted me finishing up with one of the typing test people and sending him off in the elevator and being all perky and then as soon as the elevator doors closed, my face returned to the exhausted look. Our visitor laughed and said, "Love it! You totally turned it off as soon as the doors closed." Story of my life.
Yesterday, before I left, I reported an issue with our copier. Anyone that works with me knows that I have a long history with that piece of machinery. To say we have an intimate relationship is not an exaggeration. I know crevices paper can get stuck in that the machine doesn't even know it has. Anyway, the Copy Guy always comes and fixes it. I checked my voice mail this morning and it was the Copy Guy. He went on and on about what the problem could be and what I needed to do to fix it. My blood instantly boiled. I'm not the freaking Copy Guy. I'm not even the Copy Girl. I'm an admin, and I will be dammed if I am going to get my fat, crippled ass down on the floor and perform some sort of inspection on tray number four when we have a Copy Guy for this type of thing. I didn't even finish listening to the voice mail, I just deleted it. Screw him, lazy Copy Guy.
Not long after the message was left, I had to go administer some typing tests. I come back and my trusty pal, Valerie, says, "Oh, Copy Guy called while you were gone, he wanted you to blah, blah, blah, red button, blah, blah, blah, reset the machine." I said, "why did you talk to him, that lazy bastard!" She gave me the same kind of look that someone might give a grizzly bear as they offered it a peanut M&M when he was hungry for blood. She said, "well, I did what he said, and I think it is fixed. He said we didn't have to call him back if it worked." I said, "Good, cuz, I'm not going to." As if right on que, my phone rings. Because the copier is a repeat offender, I know Copy Guys phone number by heart. It's him. I ignore his call. I'm busy, I don't have time for him. He leaves a message. I ignore it. He then continues to call me repeatedly. Dirtbag. Why doesn't he just drag his lazy ass out here and check out the machine? I get paid to be an admin, he gets paid to be a copy guy. Duh, do the math. Copy guy apparently finally got curious enough because he showed up and serviced the machine and then came to talk to me about it. I hate this part. I smiled and acted like I was happy to see him. Freaking Oscar worthy performance, if I do say so myself. I bid him adieu and went about my day.
My day progressed and ran me ragged. The front desk kept calling me informing me, "Someone's here for a typing test." "Someone left their purse outside." "Someone ordered pizza and it's here." "Someone is here and needs you to fax his diploma and offer letter to HR." Great, now I'm freaking Kinkos. Whatever. I go down there and grab the stuff, walk over to the 4th floor copier so I don't have to go back upstairs for the 400th time and who is there? Copy Guy. It as if the universe was mocking me. I said, "so are you going to be a while?" He said he would be a few minutes. I limped my fat ass back up the stairs and used the 5th floor copier. I hardly ever need to use the 4th floor copier and the one time I do, the ever-elusive Copy Guy is bent over it. Dumb.
I finish my task and start to walk back to my desk. I see this guy I've never seen before and he is standing there talking on his cell phone. I was wondering who he was as I reached up to push my glasses up and my finger missed and went right up my nose. Brilliant. It's like I was freaking Rainman. Never in my life have I accidentally put my finger up my nose and now I did it right in front of this random guy. I need a drink.
Now it's time for the staff meeting. My boss is sick, possibly running a fever and crabby. I felt it was my duty to advise him of his crabbiness. Men are not good sick people, they just aren't. I actually documented in the meeting notes that he was crabby. I mean, he wasn't as crabby as me, let's not get carried away, but for him, it was crabby. Anyway, over two hours in that staff meeting. All my ideas were shot down, so it was a defeat on my part. I suggested moving my desk to the third floor, denied. I suggested getting tall walls around my area, denied. I think, however, I might be close to getting my own celebrity star on the skybridge with my name on it. I think I have some people backing me on that. We should make that happen.
After all the stress of the day, I did finally get back to my desk where someone had left me some tulips on my desk. Awww...who would do that? Come to find out, my dear hubby, Will, had stopped by and left them for me. Such a guy. And even better, when I got home, he had even cooked dinner. Home Sweet Home.
Yesterday, before I left, I reported an issue with our copier. Anyone that works with me knows that I have a long history with that piece of machinery. To say we have an intimate relationship is not an exaggeration. I know crevices paper can get stuck in that the machine doesn't even know it has. Anyway, the Copy Guy always comes and fixes it. I checked my voice mail this morning and it was the Copy Guy. He went on and on about what the problem could be and what I needed to do to fix it. My blood instantly boiled. I'm not the freaking Copy Guy. I'm not even the Copy Girl. I'm an admin, and I will be dammed if I am going to get my fat, crippled ass down on the floor and perform some sort of inspection on tray number four when we have a Copy Guy for this type of thing. I didn't even finish listening to the voice mail, I just deleted it. Screw him, lazy Copy Guy.
Not long after the message was left, I had to go administer some typing tests. I come back and my trusty pal, Valerie, says, "Oh, Copy Guy called while you were gone, he wanted you to blah, blah, blah, red button, blah, blah, blah, reset the machine." I said, "why did you talk to him, that lazy bastard!" She gave me the same kind of look that someone might give a grizzly bear as they offered it a peanut M&M when he was hungry for blood. She said, "well, I did what he said, and I think it is fixed. He said we didn't have to call him back if it worked." I said, "Good, cuz, I'm not going to." As if right on que, my phone rings. Because the copier is a repeat offender, I know Copy Guys phone number by heart. It's him. I ignore his call. I'm busy, I don't have time for him. He leaves a message. I ignore it. He then continues to call me repeatedly. Dirtbag. Why doesn't he just drag his lazy ass out here and check out the machine? I get paid to be an admin, he gets paid to be a copy guy. Duh, do the math. Copy guy apparently finally got curious enough because he showed up and serviced the machine and then came to talk to me about it. I hate this part. I smiled and acted like I was happy to see him. Freaking Oscar worthy performance, if I do say so myself. I bid him adieu and went about my day.
My day progressed and ran me ragged. The front desk kept calling me informing me, "Someone's here for a typing test." "Someone left their purse outside." "Someone ordered pizza and it's here." "Someone is here and needs you to fax his diploma and offer letter to HR." Great, now I'm freaking Kinkos. Whatever. I go down there and grab the stuff, walk over to the 4th floor copier so I don't have to go back upstairs for the 400th time and who is there? Copy Guy. It as if the universe was mocking me. I said, "so are you going to be a while?" He said he would be a few minutes. I limped my fat ass back up the stairs and used the 5th floor copier. I hardly ever need to use the 4th floor copier and the one time I do, the ever-elusive Copy Guy is bent over it. Dumb.
I finish my task and start to walk back to my desk. I see this guy I've never seen before and he is standing there talking on his cell phone. I was wondering who he was as I reached up to push my glasses up and my finger missed and went right up my nose. Brilliant. It's like I was freaking Rainman. Never in my life have I accidentally put my finger up my nose and now I did it right in front of this random guy. I need a drink.
Now it's time for the staff meeting. My boss is sick, possibly running a fever and crabby. I felt it was my duty to advise him of his crabbiness. Men are not good sick people, they just aren't. I actually documented in the meeting notes that he was crabby. I mean, he wasn't as crabby as me, let's not get carried away, but for him, it was crabby. Anyway, over two hours in that staff meeting. All my ideas were shot down, so it was a defeat on my part. I suggested moving my desk to the third floor, denied. I suggested getting tall walls around my area, denied. I think, however, I might be close to getting my own celebrity star on the skybridge with my name on it. I think I have some people backing me on that. We should make that happen.
After all the stress of the day, I did finally get back to my desk where someone had left me some tulips on my desk. Awww...who would do that? Come to find out, my dear hubby, Will, had stopped by and left them for me. Such a guy. And even better, when I got home, he had even cooked dinner. Home Sweet Home.
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