I don't know what the hell is going on. It's like karma is ganging up on me all at once. Today was another shining example of "in your face, bitch." Once again, I was an innocent bystander, minding my own business and I was victimized.
Today, we had a training. All employees had to take it. There were approximately 120 people per session and all employees from all different departments were required to attend. In an effort to remain obscure about my place of employment, I shall rename the title of the course to, "I Choose Abuse." The goal of this training was to guide employees through a little "self discovery" of why they work for the company and how attitude is everything and that ultimately, if we choose to work here, we need to be in charge of our attitude. I came in and chose my seat in the back row. I would be a casual observer, incognito you might say.
The trainer, Trainer Dude, was entertaining and guiding us through relevant life experiences he had and how it related to his choices at our company. As he brought up scenarios, he would look into the audience and ask someone their name and then use them in his examples. Everything was going fine. I was entertained, I was actually enjoying his presentation. And then, all at once, the winds changed and a darkness settled on the back row.
Trainer Dude decides to present a scenario where there is a type of person that is positive, perky and the kind of employee you kind of almost can't stand because they are so sweet. You could stab one of their eyes out and they would still look at you and say, "Well, it sure is lucky I have at least one good eye!" He drew a picture of a smiley face and that represented one of our employees. And then, he looked around the room, and out of 120 people, he looks at me, in the back row and says, "you, in the back, what is your name?" I tell him it is Cassondra. I know where this is going and it doesn't look good for me. He draws a frowny face and informs the room that this is the kind of person that has a "poopy" personality and that is the downer you don't want to talk to. Every person I know burst into immediate laughter. He went on, "Cassandra (yep, he did it, he freakin called me CassAndra) is the person that you avoid in the morning. She is the person that has the whole parking lot in the morning, but chooses to park next to you and then gets out and traps you in your vehicle while telling you about the cat she has and she hates. She is the person that makes you pretend to be on the phone to avoid her." Everyone in the room that knows me is laughing so hard, they are almost peeing themselves. I have a straight line of sight to the front row where my friends, Mamma Chris, Pocket Barbie and Crooked Parking Princess (formerly known as the Jackhole in earlier blogs) are sitting. Their faces are red, they are rocking back and forth and then Crooked Parking Princess lets out a snort because she is laughing so hard. Tears are rolling down their faces. My boss is sitting there, along with some of the other managers. I hear their laughter. Trainer Dude carries on about how "poopy people" like CassAndra just suck the life out of you and "smear poop everywhere." My face was red. I sat there quietly and took the lashing and the laughter knowing it was all meant in good fun.
I couldn't help but think, as I sat there, "why me?" Why was he drawn to me? He didn't know me. Was I being punked? I mean, sure, I mock perky, happy people. And, I don't like to talk to people in the morning, unless I have to. And, let's face it, during the rest of the day either. In my defense, I try not to talk to people, they are the ones that provoke me. Trainer Dude didn't mention that the poopy people might be justified. What caused this to happen?
The "training" finally ended and people looked at me, a little scared, a little amused. All of them wondering what my wrath would be. I had people say, "I don't think you are poopy, CassAndra." Everyone had a poop joke. I got back to my desk and my instant messaging system was lit up. Apparently word of my starring role in the scenario was traveling. Everyone thinks they are hilarious. A couple of the managers came to see how I was holding up and said I handled it so well. Well, what was I going to do? Go up there and bust Trainer Dude's chops? And then, as the winds once again turned, I saw Trainer Dude coming up to Boss number 1's office with our visiting VP. I called him out, "You, Trainer Dude, I wanna talk to you..." He looked for an escape route. He was screwed. I hassled him about it and told him due to his random defamation of character, he would need to put his head into the Spartacus cut-out at my desk and get his picture taken. He declined. I insisted. I got his picture. I own him now. That is going into my collection to be used as I see fit. If I didn't want to get fired, I'd post it here, but since I do have bills to pay, I will keep it within the walls of the Glass Palace.
The follow-up to the training was that we had to take a survey and then fill out a worksheet about what we took away from the training and what we were willing to do as a result. What were we committing to our supervisor that we would do? I immediately took the survey and filled out my worksheet. I wrote the following: "I will continue to put my big girl undies on each day and deal with whatever it is that I need to. I will also continue to provide my opinion as needed as a result of aforementioned "stuff."" I mean, come on, it isn't like I had a break through, I am the poopy person, those people don't change, right? In reality, I might be grumpy, but I don't drag people down and I don't talk about my cat, unless she sh*ts in my flowerbed.
I don't really know what to expect for tomorrow. I have to see Dr. Feel Good tomorrow, that will probably be my next kick-ass karma moment. Can't. Wait.
Today, we had a training. All employees had to take it. There were approximately 120 people per session and all employees from all different departments were required to attend. In an effort to remain obscure about my place of employment, I shall rename the title of the course to, "I Choose Abuse." The goal of this training was to guide employees through a little "self discovery" of why they work for the company and how attitude is everything and that ultimately, if we choose to work here, we need to be in charge of our attitude. I came in and chose my seat in the back row. I would be a casual observer, incognito you might say.
The trainer, Trainer Dude, was entertaining and guiding us through relevant life experiences he had and how it related to his choices at our company. As he brought up scenarios, he would look into the audience and ask someone their name and then use them in his examples. Everything was going fine. I was entertained, I was actually enjoying his presentation. And then, all at once, the winds changed and a darkness settled on the back row.
Trainer Dude decides to present a scenario where there is a type of person that is positive, perky and the kind of employee you kind of almost can't stand because they are so sweet. You could stab one of their eyes out and they would still look at you and say, "Well, it sure is lucky I have at least one good eye!" He drew a picture of a smiley face and that represented one of our employees. And then, he looked around the room, and out of 120 people, he looks at me, in the back row and says, "you, in the back, what is your name?" I tell him it is Cassondra. I know where this is going and it doesn't look good for me. He draws a frowny face and informs the room that this is the kind of person that has a "poopy" personality and that is the downer you don't want to talk to. Every person I know burst into immediate laughter. He went on, "Cassandra (yep, he did it, he freakin called me CassAndra) is the person that you avoid in the morning. She is the person that has the whole parking lot in the morning, but chooses to park next to you and then gets out and traps you in your vehicle while telling you about the cat she has and she hates. She is the person that makes you pretend to be on the phone to avoid her." Everyone in the room that knows me is laughing so hard, they are almost peeing themselves. I have a straight line of sight to the front row where my friends, Mamma Chris, Pocket Barbie and Crooked Parking Princess (formerly known as the Jackhole in earlier blogs) are sitting. Their faces are red, they are rocking back and forth and then Crooked Parking Princess lets out a snort because she is laughing so hard. Tears are rolling down their faces. My boss is sitting there, along with some of the other managers. I hear their laughter. Trainer Dude carries on about how "poopy people" like CassAndra just suck the life out of you and "smear poop everywhere." My face was red. I sat there quietly and took the lashing and the laughter knowing it was all meant in good fun.
I couldn't help but think, as I sat there, "why me?" Why was he drawn to me? He didn't know me. Was I being punked? I mean, sure, I mock perky, happy people. And, I don't like to talk to people in the morning, unless I have to. And, let's face it, during the rest of the day either. In my defense, I try not to talk to people, they are the ones that provoke me. Trainer Dude didn't mention that the poopy people might be justified. What caused this to happen?
The "training" finally ended and people looked at me, a little scared, a little amused. All of them wondering what my wrath would be. I had people say, "I don't think you are poopy, CassAndra." Everyone had a poop joke. I got back to my desk and my instant messaging system was lit up. Apparently word of my starring role in the scenario was traveling. Everyone thinks they are hilarious. A couple of the managers came to see how I was holding up and said I handled it so well. Well, what was I going to do? Go up there and bust Trainer Dude's chops? And then, as the winds once again turned, I saw Trainer Dude coming up to Boss number 1's office with our visiting VP. I called him out, "You, Trainer Dude, I wanna talk to you..." He looked for an escape route. He was screwed. I hassled him about it and told him due to his random defamation of character, he would need to put his head into the Spartacus cut-out at my desk and get his picture taken. He declined. I insisted. I got his picture. I own him now. That is going into my collection to be used as I see fit. If I didn't want to get fired, I'd post it here, but since I do have bills to pay, I will keep it within the walls of the Glass Palace.
The follow-up to the training was that we had to take a survey and then fill out a worksheet about what we took away from the training and what we were willing to do as a result. What were we committing to our supervisor that we would do? I immediately took the survey and filled out my worksheet. I wrote the following: "I will continue to put my big girl undies on each day and deal with whatever it is that I need to. I will also continue to provide my opinion as needed as a result of aforementioned "stuff."" I mean, come on, it isn't like I had a break through, I am the poopy person, those people don't change, right? In reality, I might be grumpy, but I don't drag people down and I don't talk about my cat, unless she sh*ts in my flowerbed.
I don't really know what to expect for tomorrow. I have to see Dr. Feel Good tomorrow, that will probably be my next kick-ass karma moment. Can't. Wait.
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