Helpful Tip: It's never going to be a good day when you were kept awake half the night listening to noisy cat sex outside, or if you are almost in tears at your desk by 8:01am and you started at 8:00am.
On Friday, I had sent an email requesting a meeting for someone. I had simply asked about the availability of a person. I opened my email this morning and I had a very bitchy, condescending response. Like, the kind of response that this person (whom, I am sure, is very busy trying to figure out ways of cancelling Christmas) surely took a lot of time to write. Instead of just replying with the answer I was seeking, she took the time to tell me how exactly to do my job. Now, I'm not sure where Hagatha got the impression I am a village idiot, or that I am new to the company, or possibly to the Americas, but she went on, in detail, on how to schedule a meeting and send an invite. I thought maybe I was over-reacting, so I sent the email to my friend that works across the way and asked her if I had, in any way, implied I was stupid. She was appalled at the email. Ok, so it isn't just me.
To make matters even worse is that Hagatha has another counterpart, Ragatha, that was also emailing me telling me how to do things. Now, I have never met these people, never exchanged an email with these people, never worked with them, ever. I guess my problem is that I didn't know that I was dealing with the high priestesses of the administrative guild of the secret society of the bitches association of the world. I shall henceforth and forever more refer to them as the Bitches of Eastwick. The person that asked me to assist with this meeting was equally baffled by their behavior.
I ended up sending a few responses that were as sweet as sweet could be, because, after all, I am a professional and a team player. The Bitches of Eastwick were not going to bring me down. Finally, after agonizing over this invitation, I sent it out. Mother-Trucker!!! I forgot to change it to their time zone. Well, I guess I showed them I know what I am doing. Damn it. And then, here comes the emails, and then the phone call. I saw my letter opener sitting there and I thought, I could end it all now. Instead I answered the phone, knowing it was Ragatha and gave my best performance in a supporting actress role. Ragatha had no personality, void of emotion. This bitch needs to do a Jib Jab, bad. She needs to Google a picture of an LOL Cat or something, anything. Perhaps she needed to get "some." It's really hard to say. I'm not saying Jib Jab, LOL Catz and gettin some are the recipe for happiness, but they sure as hell don't hurt.
I sat there after the phone call and stared at a package the mail lady brought up. It was telling me to "Open Immediately!" Eff you, package, Eff you. Dish Guy asked, "OOOooo, what's in there?" I said, "you know on the cartoons how they whip out a big black spot and throw it on the ground and jump through it? I hope it is one of those." Sadly, it was just another stand up movie promo poster. I sat there and waited for the next assault, it was coming, I knew it. My left butt cheek started to throb. The Bitches of Eastwick were a pain in my ass. If someone actually makes your butt hurt, that is saying something. I think voodoo could be involved.
I wandered down and got some chocolate out of the vending machine because, dammit, I've earned it. As I stood there starting at the vending machine, picking my poison, I wondered what could have caused Hagatha and Ragatha to attack without just cause. I ran through a list of things that make me cranky. Pranx got them down? Maybe their guts and thighs are overly compressed? Underwear so far up their butt they need the jaws of life to get it out? Bunched panties are unpleasant. Started a new diet? Someone force feed that bitch a cheeseburger. Maybe her bra is riding up on one side, I hate that and it does make me irritable. Or, it is the worst case scenario and she is shedding her uterine wall and is out of tampons. I realized that I didn't care if she had a tampon in sideways, there was no excuse for her behavior.
I got back to my desk and the person that asked me to set the meeting had sent me an instant message asking why the multiple invites. I advised him that every time the Bitches of Eastwick didn't like something, they asked me to send an update. I told him, "they are treating me like a bad puppy that peed on the floor. Soon enough, I'll learn to pee outside." His response, "wow."
That kind of sums up the day, wow. I just hope tomorrow is better because today was almost my last day as an employed person. If I do quit, I can start an organization for working girls like me that get oppressed by random bitches. I'll do an advertisement on TV, "Bitches got you down? Call now for your free consultation on how to be smug, arrogant and condescending. Fight fire with fire! We also have a crisis line just in case you have your letter opener wedged into your eye sockett..." It's just an idea, but I think it could be helpful to a lot of people just like me. I'll hold off for now, let's just see how Tuesday goes...
On Friday, I had sent an email requesting a meeting for someone. I had simply asked about the availability of a person. I opened my email this morning and I had a very bitchy, condescending response. Like, the kind of response that this person (whom, I am sure, is very busy trying to figure out ways of cancelling Christmas) surely took a lot of time to write. Instead of just replying with the answer I was seeking, she took the time to tell me how exactly to do my job. Now, I'm not sure where Hagatha got the impression I am a village idiot, or that I am new to the company, or possibly to the Americas, but she went on, in detail, on how to schedule a meeting and send an invite. I thought maybe I was over-reacting, so I sent the email to my friend that works across the way and asked her if I had, in any way, implied I was stupid. She was appalled at the email. Ok, so it isn't just me.
To make matters even worse is that Hagatha has another counterpart, Ragatha, that was also emailing me telling me how to do things. Now, I have never met these people, never exchanged an email with these people, never worked with them, ever. I guess my problem is that I didn't know that I was dealing with the high priestesses of the administrative guild of the secret society of the bitches association of the world. I shall henceforth and forever more refer to them as the Bitches of Eastwick. The person that asked me to assist with this meeting was equally baffled by their behavior.
I ended up sending a few responses that were as sweet as sweet could be, because, after all, I am a professional and a team player. The Bitches of Eastwick were not going to bring me down. Finally, after agonizing over this invitation, I sent it out. Mother-Trucker!!! I forgot to change it to their time zone. Well, I guess I showed them I know what I am doing. Damn it. And then, here comes the emails, and then the phone call. I saw my letter opener sitting there and I thought, I could end it all now. Instead I answered the phone, knowing it was Ragatha and gave my best performance in a supporting actress role. Ragatha had no personality, void of emotion. This bitch needs to do a Jib Jab, bad. She needs to Google a picture of an LOL Cat or something, anything. Perhaps she needed to get "some." It's really hard to say. I'm not saying Jib Jab, LOL Catz and gettin some are the recipe for happiness, but they sure as hell don't hurt.
I sat there after the phone call and stared at a package the mail lady brought up. It was telling me to "Open Immediately!" Eff you, package, Eff you. Dish Guy asked, "OOOooo, what's in there?" I said, "you know on the cartoons how they whip out a big black spot and throw it on the ground and jump through it? I hope it is one of those." Sadly, it was just another stand up movie promo poster. I sat there and waited for the next assault, it was coming, I knew it. My left butt cheek started to throb. The Bitches of Eastwick were a pain in my ass. If someone actually makes your butt hurt, that is saying something. I think voodoo could be involved.
I wandered down and got some chocolate out of the vending machine because, dammit, I've earned it. As I stood there starting at the vending machine, picking my poison, I wondered what could have caused Hagatha and Ragatha to attack without just cause. I ran through a list of things that make me cranky. Pranx got them down? Maybe their guts and thighs are overly compressed? Underwear so far up their butt they need the jaws of life to get it out? Bunched panties are unpleasant. Started a new diet? Someone force feed that bitch a cheeseburger. Maybe her bra is riding up on one side, I hate that and it does make me irritable. Or, it is the worst case scenario and she is shedding her uterine wall and is out of tampons. I realized that I didn't care if she had a tampon in sideways, there was no excuse for her behavior.
I got back to my desk and the person that asked me to set the meeting had sent me an instant message asking why the multiple invites. I advised him that every time the Bitches of Eastwick didn't like something, they asked me to send an update. I told him, "they are treating me like a bad puppy that peed on the floor. Soon enough, I'll learn to pee outside." His response, "wow."
That kind of sums up the day, wow. I just hope tomorrow is better because today was almost my last day as an employed person. If I do quit, I can start an organization for working girls like me that get oppressed by random bitches. I'll do an advertisement on TV, "Bitches got you down? Call now for your free consultation on how to be smug, arrogant and condescending. Fight fire with fire! We also have a crisis line just in case you have your letter opener wedged into your eye sockett..." It's just an idea, but I think it could be helpful to a lot of people just like me. I'll hold off for now, let's just see how Tuesday goes...
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