Wednesday, March 11, 2015

Hump this, Wednesday

To say that I woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning is a dramatic understatement.  I've not been sleeping well for a few weeks now and this morning I just didn't know if I had the energy to make it all happen.  Apparently, Shark Bait was in the same mood, so maybe it was full moon residual, or planetary alignment.  Or, we both just needed more sleep.

Somehow, either by the grace of God, or a dark force, I managed to get myself dressed and to work.  If there was a medal of honor for forcing yourself to go to work, I earned it.  I walked in and put my stuff down at my desk. I did not go in to say "good morning" to my boss and I planned on easing into this gently. One of my co-workers that recently moved her desk by mine, Nevershutsup Barbie, likes to mess with me.  She starts in, "HEY, GOOD MORNING!!!"  Oh, I wasn't ready for this.  I turned my head slowly, like all the demons do in the horror movies and looked at her cooly, "I am not in a good place today, I would, for your own safety, not attempt to engage me.  I fear the result may not be in your favor."  She was unafraid.  It's the unafraid people that are in the most danger, really.  As they up the ante with their shenanigans, I thusly, escalate accordingly.  I ignored her the best I could, for now, and sat down.

My email had only been open for moments when the words, "Are you fucking kidding me?!" came out of my mouth.  It seemed as if every email I opened was filled with stupidity.  What is wrong with people?  For example, I've been advised I have to order freaking cakes for all our employees for some anniversary celebration. A celebration that I'm in charge of on the same day I'm in charge of running another open house hiring event. The person in charge of this anniversary thing has a budget, so I'm told, so I should be mindful of the budget when ordering.  Hey, genius, how about you tell me what the freaking budget is?  I shoot an email back to her requesting this mystery budget.  She sends back an email saying that my budget to get enough cake to feed approx 150 employees is $40 - $45.  You don't have to be a rocket scientist or culinary mastermind to know that a sheet cake costs more than that and we need 2-3 of them.  What is wrong with people?  I fire her an email back, "so, should I just buy $45 worth of cake and for anyone that doesn't get any, I just tell them "it sucks to be you?"  Or, should I actually order enough to feed everyone?  The sheet cakes are $59 each at the local grocery store." She responds back to buy for everyone.  Then why in the fuck did you tell me my budget was $45?

Just then, Valerina sends me an instant message, "Good Morning!!!!"  Are you kidding me?  FOUR exclamation points?  That is WAY too much excitement for this morning.  I responded, "not."  She responds, "Do I need to come hug you?"  I advise her, "Not if you value your life."  Just then, I realize that my FCD (fat controlling device) is actually sucking the life out of me.  I couldn't take it one more minute.  I utter, "That's it!" and head off to the bathroom to remove it. As I'm walking, I notice I have my hand clenched very tightly with all my fingers except my pointer finger and my thumb.  My pointer finger is pointed at the ground and my thumb is sticking out.  It looks like I'm making a gun with my hand.  Wow.  I need to simmer down. It's only 8:30am.  This is going to be a long day. 

On the way back to my desk, Dish Guy stops me and asks how it's going.  I don't remember a lot about this conversation, in retrospect, but I think I recall using the phrases: Mother effer, stupid piece of shit, head so far up her ass, and a few other choice words...at some point I think I said, "and any other swinging dick in the valley..."  Clearly, I was channeling my father.  He didn't work in corporate America, and there is a reason for that.  When my rampage subsided, I looked at Dish Guy's face and I don't think his eye brows could have gotten much higher and he was sitting as far back in his chair as he could. It's like he had been in a verbal assault wind tunnel. He finally said, "Okay...well then...I see this day is getting off to a rough start."  You bet your ass it is.

I got back to my desk and one of the admins to one of the important people in the company starts in on me.  She just wants to know what our headcount is.  I provided it to her yesterday.  This morning, she is still not clear.  I send her another email breaking down each group and how many people are in them.  She then calls me.  I ignore it.  I can't talk to her, I will get fired for what I would say to her.  She is being stupid and I don't have the patience for stupid.  I didn't answer.  I retreated to our balloon and helium area in the back corner of the center and checked on our St. Patrick's Day balloon supply.  I needed to do something mindless.  After acquiring all the information I needed about our balloon supply, I decided to go back to my desk and try again.  I have an email from that damn admin waiting for me.  It says, "call me."  Babycakes, I'm not calling anyone, especially not you.  She sends me another email telling me how she doesn't understand.  I cut and pasted what I had already written, plopped it in a new email and sent it to her.  She sends another email wondering if I understand about which groups are which.  I was losing my mind.  I drafted an email that may have been the rudest thing I have ever written, professionally speaking.  The tone of it actually came clearly across as "you are the stupidest human being I know."  However, I let it sit there on my screen and mulled it over.  Did I want to get fired today?  Or, should we try and prolong this a bit?  I changed some of the wording.  It was still not "friendly" but it was the best I could do.  I hit send.  I get an email back, "Okay, thanks!"  She was purposely torturing me, she had to be. 

I send another email off to one of the other admins who was waiting for a presentation from my boss. I advised her that I was just waiting for New Boss to send me the details and then I would put all the details into the powerpoint presentation template she had sent me earlier.  I just wanted her to know that I was on it and would have it in on time.  She responds, "Okay, make sure to use the template I sent you."  I can't remember what words I uttered at that moment, but they were not work place appropriate and they were loud.  Is it a conspiracy?  Is EVERYONE against me?  I send her a reply, "Yeah, that's what I said I was going to do." 

This all sounds silly, but when you factor in all the minor details I am not sharing with you about little instant messages other people are sending me and things they need from me, it's a lot to handle for a girl on the edge. 

I decided to go over to Angry Stallion and talk to him for a little while.  I don't know how we got on the topic of flying, but we started discussing my upcoming trip to CA.  I was sharing I was having some anxiety about flying because you never know when the plane is going to crash or terrorists will take it over, or the pilot dies, or any number of things.  He agrees.  The terrorists are coming, and likely next time they will do massive number of flights all at the same time all over the United States.  We don't know when it is going to happen, but it is going to happen, he is sure of it.  This was not really helping my anxiety.  I excused my way out of that conversation and again returned to my area.

This day was ridiculous.  I didn't feel good, I'm over tired, I have a headache and I'm about to lose my mind.  I decide to leave at lunch.  I rarely if ever do, but today, if I were to have any chance of not creating a hostage situation, I had to get out for a while. 

When I returned from lunch, New Boss wanted to talk to me about something going on, so I went into her office.  The subject came up about parking.  I guess we are getting new tenants in the building on the South side and they are going to take over part of our parking lot.  Mother Trucker.  Now I'm going to have to walk my fat ass all the way in from Bum Fuck Egypt.  I started to have a tantrum about it, voicing my displeasure, and  one of the managers from another department  comes in her office telling me to calm down.  New Boss, egging me on, says, "I think she needs a hug."  I look at this visiting manager with rage in my eyes, "I wouldn't if I were you."  He starts talking about how everything is rainbows and sunshine and how he turned a whole center into a hugging center one time.  I stop him right there, "Don't go bringing that sunshine BS in here.  NOT interested."  He's like, "you need to smile."  Don't tell me what to do. Nobody tells me what to do.  New Boss explains to him that we are not a huggy people and any hug-based initiative will be veto'd.  She gets me.  I decided to excuse myself and updated the white board at my desk with a simple message, "No Hugging Zone."  Eff you, people.

I decided to go over and see the folks we have in our on-the-job training area.  It's cute when people are shiny and new.  Maybe I just needed a little positive energy to rub off.  I walked by this one guy that thinks he is all that and a bag of chips, I mean, like big time. He thinks he is a bigger deal than a giant sized Reeces Peanut Butter Cup.  I said, "you sell anything yet today?"  He says he has, I said, "good, I have high hopes for you."  He says back to me all puffed up and cocky, "Wow, do you really like me that much?  I mean, wow."  I needed to remedy this situation right away, "Um, no.  You're always talking the talk, just curious if you were gonna put your money where your mouth is..."  Maybe it wasn't their newness that was going to rub off on me, perhaps I should leave the area.

I did manage to survive the rest of the day, but as I am getting ready to leave, one of my peeps, Bacon Barbie, comes walking up with two boxes of pens.  She went on her lunch hour to the store and bought pens and was passing them out.  I asked her what in the hell she was doing since I order supplies for the center and if she wanted a pen, all she had to do is ask.  I've sent emails out about it.  I sat there amazed.  She said, "well, we don't want to bother you with little stuff like this..."  I said, "The company will provide you basic supplies! It is my job to make sure you have what you need...you don't want to bother me?"  I could not comprehend it.  I mean, if there is so much as a skid mark in the toilet, or pee on the seat, people come find me no matter where I am.  They will travel to another floor and find me, they will attack me as soon as I walk in the door, they will follow me in the parking lot, THEY WILL MESSAGE ME ON FACEBOOK to tell me about the fucking bathrooms, but no one wants to bother me for a mother trucking pen or a post-it note?  ARE YOU SERIOUS?  So, to recap, pens, something you use all day everyday, no big deal if you don't have any, but if some skanky ho plays rodeo round up with her tampon in one of the stalls, I have to hear about that?  It's actually funny, if you think about it...when I'm not hysterical. 

I don't understand anything about today.  What I do know is that I cannot possibly sustain that level of  ridiculousness for another day.  Things must be better tomorrow.  And the great news is, it's Therapy Thursday tomorrow.  After skipping the last session, I think I need to go.  Like, seriously.

Three cheers to hitting the Mudslide so I can sleep tonight...



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