Friday, January 29, 2010

Rasputin Was Totally The Hulk's B*tch!

You need the context for that title. Basically Rasputin and The Hulk were cats. This was a sentence that came out of Anna's mouth in the lunchroom. And it might be my favourite thing ever said.

We finally made it folks! Friday is here. The furthest we can possibly get from Monday is at the end of business today. I can't wait.

In the meantime, I have to deal with some extra attention today.

See, I cut about 8 inches of hair off last night. It feels good, I'm still tentative about the whole thing. I think it was necessary. But when you make a change like that, people have their own thoughts they want to contribute.

Amy is disappointed in me because as a believer in long hair, I should have checked with her first. She does admit that it looks good (and it does) but it was a begrudging confession.

A guy from the other department rushed in and said that it looked fabulous and that he is gay so he "knows hair". Stereotyping statements aside, I enjoyed the reaction.

My favourite has to be Veronica's though. She has been working on growing her hair long for a while now. Its finally starting to get somewhere and she's pretty proud of it. But then she saw my hair and started talking about cutting it off again, to look like mine. She actually said, "If I cut my hair, it will be like hers". I wish I was making this up. We can add hair cut to the list of things she does like me along with OPI nail polish obsession and matching earrings.

If she cuts her hair like mine I will have no choice but to shave mine all off.

(sidenote: Veronica is currently singing along softly to her ipod. And in her downtime is trying to read a whole magazine about world cup soccer. A whole magazine!)

John hasn't been by yet. And I'm dreading him walking by. Because he can't just walk by and not notice, we will have to have a conversation about it. I have no qualms telling him that it was necessary because I will be having to look for a new job soon (the department is closing down after all) and shorter hair is more professional. Double dig- I haven't cared about having professional hair here, and I will be moving on from this ho-hum industry existence.

Speaking of extra attention. Remember when I made that list of rules for the newbies? I even linked it for you, I'm a champ like that. I would like to tell you a horror story about Rule #4. Record- I'm stealing your story. This will not be the last time either.

Basically I have this friend, and she started a new job recently. And the people in her office are complete a-holes because nobody seems to realize how awesome she is and want to have lunch with her or even talk to her. Like I said, I make exceptions for the cool FNPs- my friend is one of these FNPs. But I guess people in her office are Inbred Drunk City Planners (IDCPs) and can't see it.

Except for the Pregnant Girl.

When she first told me that this Pregnant Girl had invited her for lunch, my response was characteristic of where I am in my professional life: "Be careful. She probably just wants someone to plan her office baby shower."

Sure it was said after a particularly heinous workweek. But I think I was more right than wrong on this one (as is so often the case).

I have since been told that Pregnant Girl discusses her sleeping patterns, nausea, cramping and Kiegal exercises. Sure, this is stuff that pregnant people may discuss with other pregnant people, or their partners, maybe even very close personal friends. But not people you just met in your office. The best part though? How she has been talking to her husband about saving money so that she can have reconstructive surgery on her lady bits.


Is this appropriate office banter?

As Mrs Dashwood says to her youngest daughter in Sense and Sensibility- if you cannot think of anything appropriate to say you will kindly restrict your comments to the weather.

I happen to think that this is very good advice. There isway too much oversharing in the office these days and my poor friend was avictim of a pretty heinous overshare. Here is a short list of things that are OK to discuss with people in the office (especially when you don't know each other):

1. weather
2.sports teams
3. traffic
4. restaurants
5. weekend plans (unless they involve freaky sexual things)
6. movies/ tv

Pretty simple no? And yet, there is so much to choose from! Sports team on a hot streak? Talk about it! Olympics coming to town, f*cking up all the traffic? Rage on that! Had an interesting dinner experience? Compare notes. How about Conan's last show? Wasn't that sad?

So many discussions, and none of them involve any lady bits, which in my book, is always a bonus.

TGIF indeed.

Thursday, January 28, 2010

Living For The Weekend

Thursday. We are on the right side of Wednesday. But its no Friday.

Years ago, when I was an au pair for a particulary nasty family (no romantic notions of faraway places and cutesy kiddies for me) I lived for the weekends. All the crap I had to put up with (snotty bilingual kids and their friends, snotty pretentious mom who slept all morning while I took her kids to school, cleaning up after parties I wasn't invited to etc) was made obsolete by the arrival of the weekend. As soon as it was 3pm on the Friday, I dropped the kids off at cricket (yes, cricket) with their parents and booted it out of there as fast as possible.

The weekend would inevitably pass in a haze of vodka, boys and late night fast food and I would be right back where I started on Monday morning but I learned a valuable lesson that summer.

Vodka and orange juice don't mix.

That and that I never wanted to have another job where I lived for the weekend.

Fast forward to today and that's exactly what I have. Again.

I've always enjoyed the weekends (except when I had jobs that I had to work on the weekends- that was a nasty little reversal of things), but never more than when I don't look forward to the workweek. Now, more than ever (even when I was an au pair to the snottiest, brattiest children ever) I look forward to my weekends (and try to extend them by any means possible, whenever I can. I feel like I have a cough coming on, maybe next weekend).

Apparently I am not alone, and although you all suffer too, I take solace in this.

You all face Monday morning with me, and probably a barely legal dose of caffeine. You suffer through the time stalls of Tuesday and the Hump Day-ness of Wednesday. You are relieved at the thought of Thursday and by Friday you are already on your first drink to begin to wash away the unpleasantness of the week.

Maybe you work in a museum, mental-whoring your way through the day, patiently suffering through non-PC conversation about Somali pirates. Maybe you while away the hours in a cubicle, hoping that today will be the day people say your name properly, or start a conversation with you instead of averting their eyes. Maybe you keep your head down plotting all the ways that you can take this place down with you. Or keep a list of all the crap that your boss has done to you so that when you quit, you have something to refer to.

Wherever you are, whatever you do (except those of you that like your jobs, you are excluded from this) you live for the weekend.

The weekend. Blissful words. Bliss. Time. All your own. To sleep. Or drink. Or work out (if that's what floats your boat...I feel like that's more a weekday activity to keep the rage at bay). Read. Whatever you want to do, you can do it without some a-hole manager breathing down your neck about meeting targets or other corporate speak.

(While we are on the subject- what is with corporate speak?? Specially designed to make management feel more important? Or to grate on the nerves of the underlings? Whatever its real purpose, its annoying as f*ck.)

I'm just really hoping that the weekend comes quickly because I need a break. I know that it will be over in the blink of an eye, that come Monday, I won't feel completely rested or like I actually did anything with my weekend (although I do have 2 episodes of The Bachelor to catch up on--don't judge)--but the time will be mine to waste.

And perhaps most importantly of all, it will all be John-free.

Oh and VEG , I totally took my Sarcasma today.

Wednesday, January 27, 2010

Anger Alert

How come when you are beyond exhaustion and want everyone to just shut the hell up, everyone is in a chipper f*cking mood?

I'm not a fan of overly chipper people on the best of days. But today, the sound of Veronica's voice makes me want to stab myself in the eye a little. Or a lot.

Apparently she was up late. But she got to come to work an hour later than she normally does. Just a quick text to Amy. We're not allowed to do that. Obviously. We have to arrange these kinds of things ahead of time. And call Amy on her office phone. Veronica can just text her.

Oh to be in charge and blatantly disregard all the rules. Rules are for mere mortals after all, not supervisors like her. Like she's some kind of superhero. Please. You're a super mess.

Wow if I have to listen to talk about South Africa all day today I might just lose my mind. I am in no mood to discuss the crime rates in South Africa, what the currency is, what cities you will be visiting, your f*cking bed and breakfast or the camel you will be riding backwards. Don't you have work to do???

And why is Georgia feeding her more questions? Why do you want to know? Do you actually care? More likely a ploy to keep her talking and distracted from doing work. If this is the case, respect to Georgia. But mostly I just wish she would stop.

I think I might finally have reached my breaking point. I cannot see myself doing this much longer. I have held in here about a year and a half longer than I planned to. I watched friends lose their jobs last year and scramble to find something else and even though it sucked being here, it was a paycheque. And I needed that if we were going to be in a position to buy an apartment this year.

And we are there now.

So I only need to hold on a little longer.

But every day that I hear about South Africa, or how Veronica gets special treatment today, have to deal with stupid people that get nothing done or listen to John talk about anything, a little piece of me dies.

I had to give up the chance to go to a hockey game because of this place.

Last night we got an email that they were thinking of getting a group rate on tickets to a hockey game. I got all swept up in the idea of going to a game (how much fun are they???).

But when I got home and told The Boyfriend about this brilliant plan, I was hit with a dose of reality.

If we go to that game with work people, John will be there. John will be at the hockey game with the potential to ruin all the positive associations I currently have with hockey and going to a game.

It's not a risk I'm willing to take (that and the chance that The Boyfriend will get done for assault after he punches John in the face...maybe that is a risk I'm willing to take...).

So no hockey game for me.

Thanks a lot John. Let's add that to the list of things you have managed to ruin for me. Right up there with my professional life, cruises, amusement parks and my sanity.

Angry post today eh? Can't be helped, I'm losing my mind. Come back tomorrow and I might have something better for you. But, no promises.

Tuesday, January 26, 2010

Marshmallow Castle

Omigod! Today is an office birthday! So. Stoked.

Except by stoked, I mean the opposite.

Its not that I don't like birthdays. I love birthdays (in fact I think mine is in 51 days. Give or take). But office birthdays...well those are special.

Especially lame.

An office birthday is similar to my very favourite office institution, the Potluck.

Now let me be clear. I do not (always) object to the birthday person. In fact today's celebrant is kind of awesome. She's sweet and adorable and nice to everyone, and of course, completely overworked and underappreciated. I'm happy to celebrate her special day (this is not always true).

I also enjoy cake.There is a lady in the office that makes delicious and pretty spectacular cakes. Like one time she made a Finding Nemo cake covered in chocolate shells. Today's is a castle made of marshmallows. A castle. Out of marshmallows. Sitting on cake.

But I digress.

I'm getting all muddled and by now you are all probably asking what big problem I have with these seemingly harmless and fun office birthdays.

Its the forced, communal break that I have issue with.

I live for my first break. I enjoy spending my lunch chatting with Anna and whoever else (not lame) might be in the lunchroom. My last break of the day is much the same. But the first one? The first one is all mine. For 15 glorious minutes, I can tune out the office, sit in my corner of the couch and read my book.

I love that time.

Occasionally I don't mind giving it up, if there is an interesting conversation going on in the lunchroom, perhaps.

But I do not enjoy being rounded up like a herd of cattle, carraled in the lunchroom while the birthday person slices up the cake and hands it round and then being forced to look like I am enjoying myself. Usually surrounded by John and all his minions. Listening to John's hilarious jokes is enough to turn even the most die-hard cake fans off.

For instance.

Today the birthday girl is asian. This is relative, I promise. On the weekend she and Veronica went to Build-A-Bear. The birthday girl got a Hello Kitty bear. I know, the cliche. I haven't seen it yet, I'm sure its adorable. She brought it in today to show us. John comes by. Looks at the bear. And says "Oh, is that for your car?"

*Open mouthed smiley!*

(For those that maybe aren't familiar, asians tend to put a lot of stuffed animals in their car, and obviously Hello Kitty is a favourite)

I can't quite believe that he said it though. I mean, he's the "boss". Bad John. I think the girls gathered at the time made him feel bad. As he should.

But back to the forced break. Everyone stands around awkwardly, there might be a rendition of Happy Birthday (where not everyone knows the birthday honouree's name), and then some half-hearted jokes about how old the person is now. Then everyone breaks into their own "groups" and talk about football, or how their friends suck, or what their parents did to them. And all I can think is I hope that John doesn't touch my cake and when can I leave without looking like a b*tch.

I mean, how much do I like cake? Do I need cake (no, but I like it)? Is it worth it?

Probably- like I said. Marshmallow castle. On cake.

In other birthday news, the birthday girl was late today. Five whole minutes. And you know what that means. Oh yes, just because it's your birthday does not exempt you from making up lateness. They are totally making her stay 5 minutes after she is supposed to leave.

I don't come to work on my birthday. I did it once, the first year I worked here and it was the most depressing birthday ever. So now I don't. For obvious reasons I think.

And Brian- apparently you aren't too keen on your special day, but even at work, I hope you have a happy birthday.

**UPDATE: John outdid himself at the cake break. Someone thanked the birthday girl for being born and John said "you should thank her parents for doing it". Wow **

Monday, January 25, 2010

Conan O'Brien

On Friday night I watched Conan O'Brien say good bye to The Tonight Show. I didn't see it coming, but Conan touched me.

Not inappropriately. But like in the heart.

He said that nobody gets exactly what they thought they would in life, but that if you worked hard, and you were kind to people, good things would happen.

If Conan O'Brien can still believe in the good in people and that good things will happen, after his dream was ripped away from him, then so can I right?

So I have been thinking about that this weekend. A lot. Even last night when I started to cry because it was only 10 and The Boyfriend wanted to go to bed. But if we went to bed, then I would fall asleep (maybe, it was Sunday after all), and if I fell asleep then I would wake up and it would be Monday.

You can see why I was upset.

Well Coco was right. He really was. I have been working hard the last few weeks (completely accidentally, there is just nothing else to do here all day), and even being nice when I can. Sure, sometimes snark just happens, but for the most part I have been trying to be pleasant.

This morning Amy came over and asked if I could come for a little meeting. We picked up John along the way.

I was prepared to be a b*tch. I'm not going to lie. I knew what it was about, and I didn't think it would be good.

Sometimes its nice to be wrong.

But only sometimes and never when it means that The Boyfriend will be right.

Some of you may recall that since the Olympics are coming to town, I have to adjust my hours. In order to be out of the city by 2pm (as advised by the organizing committee), I need to be at work for 6am. Which means waking up before 5. I'm not a morning person. I can barely be pleasant before 9am. Can you imagine working with me at 6 in the morning?


So I said that I would do that for the first week and then not come in for the 2nd week, and just not get paid.

Apparently this was a really weird idea. Not get paid? How will you live? Like I get paid so much money. Seriously, I think panhandlers make more than I do.

Today I got what I wanted.

Not even kidding.

John and Amy said that HR wasn't too keen on the idea, but that in recognition of the hard work I have been doing, "owning" the process (and some other corporate jargon that I don't need to defile my blog with) etc they wanted to reward me.

I think my jaw literally hit the ground.

I didn't know what to say.

Its like when you are arguing with someone over the colour of the sky and you're all its blue and they are like its brown and then you're like no its blue! And you're prepared to go into battle to prove that the sky is blue and the other person just folds and says OK its blue.

You were prepared to fight and now you don't have to, so what do you do?

You smile, say Thank you and get back to work.

Stunned. But aware that it was the least they could do.

Now, if you haven't already seen it- I actually posted yesterday. I know, on a Sunday. But it was a special occasion, you shall see.

I heard you Conan. I will do my best.

Sunday, January 24, 2010

Award Winning Blogger I Am

I know, its a weekend, so what the hell am I doing posting on my blog about work?

I'm making an exception because I got an award!

Seriously. Laurie from Girls Are Smarter Than You gave me this award:

She really did. And because I am unbelievably stoked about this, I wanted to take the time to give this the attention it deserves (you know, without fear of John appearing out of nowhere to ask how "we" are doing). In order to accept this award there are some questions that need answering. I apologize ahead of time if these answers are missing the usual helping of snark--its a weekend and I'm not angry.

Also, a little bit hungover, but that's neither here nor there.

Here we go.

1. Where is your cell phone? On the kitchen counter, charging after a very productive evening out. Texting when you are drunk is hard without a real keyboard. That is not a criticism of the iPhone- we all know its perfection. I'm just saying. Wow...moving on...

2. Your hair? Long and blonde. I'm thinking about cutting a lot of it off. Thoughts? Comments?

3. Your mother? Awesome. Would do anything for her.

4. Your father? Tricky question. My "father" lives in the Netherlands and we don't really speak. But my Dad is fabulous and I would do pretty much anything for him too.

5. Your favorite food? chocolate. such a cliche, but seriously. I also like cake. And things with cheese.

6. Your dream last night? I was drunk. So no dreaming, more coma-tosing.

7. Your favorite drink? water. tea. vodka.

8. Your dream/goal? To write and get paid for it!

9. What room are you in? The "dining" room- although I think we reversed it and this is probably supposed to be the living room since its further from the kitchen. Guess we're just not rule followers.

10. Your hobby? Is reading considered a hobby? Its no scrapbooking is it? I'm going to go with reading.

11. Your fear? I hate rats. Really any kind of vermin.

12. Where do you want to be in 6 years? Anywhere but working where I do now. Who am I kidding- there is no way that I would even make it that long. Someone would have had to shoot me already.

13. Where were you last night? Out and aboot (I'm Canadian, what?)

14. Something you aren't? stingy.

15. Muffins? sure, blueberry or chocolate chip, but they must be moist. Moist. Some people really hate that word so I thought I would say it twice.

16. Wish list item? a house in Paris, London or Amsterdam. Or all of them.

17. Where did you grow up? North Vancouver (I feel like that's really identifying information by the way)

18. Last thing you did? guzzled water.

19. What are you wearing? a grey dress. I'm kind of cold actually. Probably should be wearing tights and a sweater. But I just pulled whatever was closest to me off the floor...I'm a classy girl like that.

20. Your TV? We have 2. But we almost never use the one in the bedroom.

21. Your pets? I want a puppy. Don't have one now, but I will.

22. Your friends? are lovely and hilarious and all ridiculously good looking because I'm not friends with ugly people.

23. Your life? Aside from a really sh*tty job that pays me nothing to get crapped on all day, things are actually pretty good. And I will sort that out. I mean if Amber from Teen Mom can sort her life out, so can I right? There's no Gary in my life, so we're ahead already.

24. Your mood? neutral. Its Sunday, I drank too much last night, but I have nothing to do so no complaints.

25. Missing someone? my Oma.

26. Vehicle? the bus?

27. Something you're not wearing? a sweater. I should get on that.

28. Your favorite store? Chapters.

29. Your favorite color? pink

30. When was the last time you laughed? I laugh all the time. But I guess when The Boyfriend started laughing at my poor balance and motor skills.

31. Last time you cried? When I watched the final episode of the Tonight Show with Conan O'Brien. I won't be cynical Coco.

32. Your best friend? I don't like the label "best" friend. I don't think that I have ever had one- it seems like when that label gets pulled out, bad things happen.

33. One place that I go over and over? The bookstore. Seriously. Crack. Den.

34. One person who emails me regularly? These days its the Record.

35. Favorite place to eat? At home (I know right? So lame)

And now, I get to pass the award onto a few other well deserving blogs that brighten up my very depressing and horrible work day. Thank you all for being Over the Top!

1. What Will I Ever Do With My Life . Yours was the first blog that I ever started following and you crack me up.

2. The Audacity of An Optimistic Pessimist . I'm fairly certain that yours was the first blog that I ever commented on. And you are also hilarious.

3. A Haute Mess My friend Niki- we started blogging around the same time and hers is way more successful for good reason. Seriously folks- its funny, good looking and smart.

4. The (mis) Adventures of VEG For a shared hatred of the advent of the Vancouver Olympics.

5. Girls Are Smarter Than You For giving it to me in the first place, the witty comments/words of encouragement, and awesome posts that pass the time at work.

Friday, January 22, 2010

Ripped Jeans: A Testimonial

I'm not really sure what I ever did to Starbucks, but Starbucks seems to take an especial pleasure in f**king up the beginning of my day. And yet, I go back. So what does that say about me?

I know there are those of you out there that despise Starbucks and everything it stands for (namely corporate greed I guess?) and those of you that practically have a Starbucks IV hooked up to your arm because you need it so badly. I guess I fall somewhere in the middle? I'm not a caffeine fiend --I like to go there on occasion to treat myself. And for whatever reason, most times, something is wrong.

How hard is it to make a grandevanillaearlgreyteamisto? I could do it (except for that last part, I'm not sure what they do with the milk). Sometimes they put in 2 tea bags, others they forget the vanilla. Rarely do I get my perfect drink. I especially like paying $100 for my beverage only to have to get to work and make adjustments.

Why do I go back? Because when they get it right, oh man do they get it right.

Unfortunately, I'm not a complainer.

OK, I guess if you are reading my blog, you would beg to differ.

However this is not real life. This is my blog life. This is where I passively aggressively b*tch and moan about everything in my work life. I can't actually do anything about it, so I complain. Anonymously. More or less.

So when Starbucks f**ks up my morning start, I smile. And say Thank You.

I'm such a pussy.

I'm not sure where I was going with this. Or if I was going anywhere with it. It just kind of happened.

Can't we all just be glad that its Friday? We've managed to make it through another whole week without murdering anyone. Quite an achievement, though I say so myself. There have definitely been some close calls.

There was the time that John insinuated that he and I were some kind of team.

The time where I had to listen to some FNP on their cellphone, almost crying about how its friend had let it down and it's just not going to try anymore. Child, please.

When Amy asked me what I was doing and I told her about John's concern that the List was getting ignored and she said "OK, so I will get Veronica to get you some more reminders then?". Yes, that is exactly what we just talked about.

The whole rigamarole (great word) around my Olympic dream (to take off the 2nd week sans pay). Answers like "we're trying to be flexible for everyone" and "we're trying to go through the appropriate HR channels" nearly caused a rage stroke. Even now I can feel my blood pressure rising.

And I would be remiss without revisiting the you-were-5-minutes-late-how-are-you-going-to-make-up-the-time? email. That was neat.

So its quite an accomplishment that I have a) not killed anyone and b) not had a stroke.

And today is Casual Day so I get to wear jeans. Sure, they are ripped on the inner thigh. Absolutely I need to go jeans shopping. But I will wear my ripped jeans to the office, confident that no one will notice. Even more sure that I just don't care.

To all this, and to you, brave office warriors, I raise my glass.

Ima get drunk tonight.

Maybe not. But the dream lives on.

Thursday, January 21, 2010

For The Record...

For those of you that need to be in the know, know this: I beat my own record. 147. Only just, but a record is a record. So there.

Yesterday was kind of peaceful in the end. John wasn't in the office. No he didn't have any kind of infection that would keep him housebound for weeks, or even get hit by a truck (I don't have that kind of luck) but he was away for a day, and the break was nice.

First thing this morning he was back at my desk though. "Did we break any records yesterday?"

First of all, there is no we. There is me and there is you. We are not a team. So we didn't do anything. But yes, I broke my own record. Thanks for manipulating me and ruining my morning. Two birds, one stone.


So aside from the Lucifer visitation, I wanted to discuss something that has been annoying me lately: hierarchy.

If you have been following my blog of late (and if you aren't, what is the deal? I don't make you laugh? You can't commiserate? So disappointed in you) you will know that we have been hiring a lot of new people lately. Not all of them are very competent.

But they think they are.

When I was in school, I used to get really excited when we got a new person (what is with all my school/youth references eh? Guess I was happy then?). A chance to make a new friend, show someone the ropes. This excitement carried over to other jobs, where I would invariably be the one training the new people. I enjoyed it.


New people arrive, I turn around in my seat for the obligatory "Hi this is so-and-so, it will be starting today" and turn back to my wall. If we are alone in the lunchroom, I usually bury my nose in my book, or flip obsessively through my iPhone apps. Because I can.

Why am I such a jerk? Because the newbies need to know their place.

Here's what I really can't stand. When the FNPs (F**king New People, or F**king New Person, singular) come in and have an hour's worth of training on the job and suddenly I work for them. I can't stand overhearing conversations like this either. Some FNP comes in and has a "question" for someone that is senior to them (I am senior to all but 4 people here FYI), and their tone implies that they know better already.

You don't.

Sit down.

I have come up with some rules for the FNPs.

1. Don't speak unless spoken to. You don't know what you are talking about. So just listen. You're not here to show off what you did at your old job, or what you learned today. You're here to get sh*t done, so how about giving it a shot.

2. Keep your personal life personal. I don't care to have the peace of the lunchroom interrupted by your whiney voice. I'm sure that your friends are jerks, but I don't want to hear about it. I also don't care about significant others, children, or pets, problems you are having with your family or why your roommate is a moron. Maybe eventually we will get to the point where we are friends and I will care about these things, but I'm gonna go out on a limb and say it will take a while if it happens at all.

3. Don't wear hats in the office. You look stupid, Nathan.

4. Be careful who you latch onto. Take your time, look around the office. See how people interact. Don't hang onto the first person to talk to you, because obviously that person doesn't have any friends in the office and is looking for fresh meat. Congratulations, you just befriended the office pariah. Alternatively, don't kiss a$$. You are not making any friends that way. No false compliments like "OMG you are SO funny" - if its a manager, they're not funny. They are in charge. Learn the difference.

5. If they stick you in someone else's desk, don't touch anything. That's not your desk. Don't get your nasty FNP germs all over everything. Take your garbage with you.

I think that's it. Now for the Record, if you are a cool FNP (and you are. you can't help it that you're new) I would be your friend. I would show you the way. This is for all the other FNPs.

Now, this last bit has nothing to do with anything I just said, but I feel its worth sharing. I got an email today about my goddaughter. She is 6 years old and she is participating in a Heart and Stroke Foundation fundraiser. She's 6! She will be jumping rope and she is looking for donations! So if you know me and you are looking for some tax relief, or you want to show your support for a socially aware 6 year old, let me know and I will forward you the link to her page.

Way to go Maya!!

Wednesday, January 20, 2010


You know how when you were a kid you engaged in some superstitious behaviours? Like not stepping on the cracks of the pavement (didn't want to break your mom's back) or all the hooplah that surrounded a Friday the 13th (you might still be freaked out by that).

Sometimes I still do that. I look for signs that it will be a good day. Or try and play a game (by myself, so sad) to see if I can't make it a good day. Maybe I will see a stag galloping beside my bus in the mist, or see an eagle flying over the bridge on the way to work (both happened, one to me, one I stole)--omens for a good day right? Or I will tell myself that if I walk faster than this guy beside me until I get to work, then it will be a good day.

Not sure why I bother. Guess I'm kind of superstitious by nature (my grandmother was really bad- no shoes on the table. means poverty. don't walk under ladders, black cats were the worst and don't ever get her started on the number 13) so I can't help but play these little tricks.

None of them work though. Days at work are still crap.

Today my competitive nature is being manipulated to see who can do the most work. My record is 146. No one can beat that (and actually, I don't think anyone will be attempting it since the other "competitors" [I use the term loosely] have other things going on) but I'm still in competition with myself. And as Monica put it on Thanksgiving, that's the best kind of competition.

But it doesn't make for a good day. Maybe it will make it go away faster- but just as likely it won't.

Today I think I will constantly be looking over my shoulder to ensure that John isn't standing over me. Such a bad habit- didn't his mother ever teach him any manners? Actually maybe his mom knew what he would become and dropped him off at the nearest church. I would have. Dumpster even. He was probably raised by lunatics. Or inbred drunk city planners.

So I sit in my Cubicle, prepared to be ignored. And have to listen to Veronica "train" another new person. Another one, seriously. This one doesn't offend me quite so much on sight, but give her time. I mean, they hired her so there has to be something wrong with her right?

Veronica's like a broken record and I don't even think she realizes it. "Don't worry, not everyone gets 4 monitors" she says every single time she has a new person. She implies that she is very busy and important when, in actual fact, she is neither.

Yesterday, chocolate was offered around and I didn't get any. Don't misread that. It's not that I didn't want any. A little afternoon chocolate could have gone a long way to placating me. I was not even offered any.

Its like my Cubicle (and I think that Maurice has a lot to do with it, all personality-less) is in some kind of black hole and you can't find it. Yet people walk through it all the time. Mainly John. Maybe you have to be an a-hole to find your way in here. Who knows. I'm no physicist.

Do physicists deal with black holes? They do now.

Uh oh, I feel the rage starting to bubble over.

Basically, I have this plan. And its a pretty good one.Everybody wins. I propose to take the 2nd week of the Olympics off, and just not get paid. I don't want to take vacation time, I don't want to bank a bunch of hours, I just don't want the money. Believe me, its not that much. But I can't get an answer out of anyone either way.

Just a lot of "we're going to try and be flexible", "it has to go through HR channels", "we want to make this work for everyone" etc.

Basically just a bunch of non answers.


I better stop before I give myself a rage stroke.

Tuesday, January 19, 2010

The One Where I Compare Tuesdays To A Baby Turtle

Today is going to be a long day.

Anna says that I have been here too long, but I have a theory about why today will be so long. Yesterday was Monday (duh), and the expectation, naturally, was for it to be a really long, painful, slow day. But the Universe likes to keep me on my toes and time passed smoothly enough. Before I knew it, the day was over.

But the Universe doesn't do this to be kind. The Universe does this to kick me when I'm down. By allowing Monday to pass quickly, the Universe thinks that I have been tricked into believing that the rest of the week will follow suit. Well Universe, you may recall that I was not born yesterday. And sadly, the 2 year anniversary of my prison sentence (working here) is coming up, so I know how things roll in the Cubicle.

Today will be slow. It will be worse than slow. It will be a baby turtle trying to cross the huge beach to get safely into the water, only to reach the edge and be picked off by a bird searching for a meal. Today is that baby turtle.

Sure, my analogy doesn't make any sense, and maybe I need to lay off the Planet Earth series, but it doesn't have to make sense and I think I'm cured of that series anyway after the slow painful death of the polar bear. Maybe that should have been my analogy. I just kind of like turtles. And they are slow. Polar bears are powerful. Tuesdays aren't powerful.

I had a point?

Maybe I did. Maybe I didn't. Point is, I'm not making any sense.

Anna isn't here today. Let's all take a minute to blame Anna for being selfish and allowing herself to get sick and leave me here to rot alone.

Way to go Anna.

But seriously, feel better.

So that you can come back. I have an email waiting for you with everything that you have missed.

I added to my Quit List this morning. About the lack of clearly defined managerial/supervisory roles. Veronica's hair is in pigtails. Well braids. What's the correct terminology here? Anyway, whatever it is, it doesn't exactly scream "I'm in charge". Instead it calls to mind little girls in dresses on the playground sucking on a lollipop. If you are a pedophile, please leave the blog area immediately. For the rest of you, I can see how that reference seems dirty. That was not my intention.

I would like to say that I am in a better frame of mind than I was yesterday. I tried to be. I even went to the gym last night to run off the bitterness. But this morning I came in to an email (first thing, why do they do that?) asking me how I was going to make up the 5 minutes that I was late yesterday. Five minutes. I wonder why it makes them so happy to be so petty. I guess because they lead such pathetic, non-fulfilling lives. I mean, I work here too, but at least outside of this building my life doesn't completely suck.

But on the inside. Oh man. The bitterness, the disrespect, the boredom. I am bored 99.9% of my work day. Can you imagine that kind of boredom, that waste of time and mental resources? It happens. Every. Single. Day. In my real life, I'm not a b*tch. Not all the time anyway- in my day I have even been called sweet. But in the shark tank, the Cubicle? I'm a raging b*tch because its the only way to cope.

I think people are honestly surprised (the people that I decide are worthy of my time anyway, and there aren't many--yesterday I told Amy that I was only laughing at her bad joke because she was my boss) when they find that I'm not actually a horrible person. I hate that I am this person at work, but I don't really see any other way around it.

I try to be nice and I get screwed.

So I'm on my game all the time. And I'm tired.

It must be coming to an end. I mean, 2 years. About a year and a half longer than I intended to work here. But while I continue to serve my indefinite sentence, you will all be regaled with tales of bitterness and woe. And you know you like it.

Monday, January 18, 2010

James Cameron Ruined My Day

Another day in f**kin' paradise folks.

The wind is howling, the rain is pouring down, its still kind of dark and I'm stuck in the office with a bunch of d-bags and imbeciles. Yay.

I have to say that today is just a little bit worse than most days and its all James Cameron's fault.

As most of you are aware (except Anna, she didn't watch because she forgot?) the Golden Globes were on last night. A night where Hollywood can get together, film and television, and recognize each other's performances with a lovely dinner and lots of booze. The boozing really is the best part.

Anyway, I was totally enjoying them. Meryl Streep was tipsy, Monique was sincere, Ricky Gervais was merciless. But then a dark cloud passed over my enjoyment. Right around the same time as The Boyfriend announced (with glee) that "tomorrow is my last day of work", Avatar won for best movie and James Cameron made his way back on to the stage to make my life that much worse.

James Cameron, in accepting his Golden Globe for best picture, decided to mention how he has the best job in the world. Like we didn't all already know that making movies, creating worlds, and breaking box office records wasn't the best job in the world, he had to rub it in.

It's not that I was somehow under the impression that my job wasn't that bad before he said this. I mean, I write a blog about how much my job sucks. But lately, I have really gotten to the end of my rope. I honestly don't know how much more of this I can take. I'm thisclose to snapping and creating a really ugly scene that culminates in all of my worldly possessions taking up residence in a box.

I make no money, I get no respect and I am surrounded by a-holes and idiots. Those are my Top 3 reasons for hating my job.

And lately, there has been a whole lot of "I totally understand what it means to hate your job" or " Something better will come along soon".

I know these are meant to be helpful but unless you work here, or you have a job that you can offer me that pays me more and has nothing to do with any kind of finance, your words don't mean sh*t. I have no hope, no leads, no light at the end of the tunnel so mostly I just want to break things.

I'm pleasant this morning aren't I?

Well aside from James Cameron and The Boyfriend's happy dance about his upcoming 4 days off, the lady bus driver really pissed me off this morning. Aside from the fact that I take the same bus every morning, with the same driver, if I'm running for the bus and just make it on, I still need to dig around for my pass to prove that I have paid for the ride. Most of the time, when you have a regular bus driver that you say hello to and smile at every morning they know your face and in moments like this, they know that you are good for the fare. Other mornings, obviously, I have it ready.

Then, there is bridge traffic and it takes her 25 minutes to go 3 blocks because (as she explains on her intercom) all the cars are going in her lane to get onto the bridge. There are 2 other lanes that she could be driving in to get around the bridge traffic. But she won't.

I can't stand her.

I'm sure that it will get so much better when I'm on the bus at 5am to get to work at 6am. Thanks Olympics (and John).

I have seriously had it with this place. I can't even hold in my hatred anymore. Its not thinly veiled, its not masked in hilarity- its all out hatred spewing all over the place.

And its all James Cameron's fault.

Thursday, January 14, 2010

Sometimes I Care About Others

Try as I might I can't think of anything interesting or amusing to talk about today. So I fear that today will be one of those really random (I hate that word), hastily put together list of ramblings from a quasi-insane person.

Sometimes these turn out well, but more often than not I feel like it would have been better to just not.

I have to go to the dentist tonight. I'm not one of those people that has an actual phobia of dentists or anything, but I don't take particular pleasure in going either. Sure, my dentist is a nice guy and the hygenists are lovely too. But come on-- going to the dentist sucks. I'll probably have a cavity or something. Must drink more milk.

Other than that I think I'm just exhausted from this week. All the talking and not doing is enough to drive anyone mental. And its not even Friday. I don't have Claire to email constantly anymore (although she has been texting me this morning--she is re-bonding with Regis and Kelly), and Anna is off tomorrow so that her puppy can be neutered. Poor guy doesn't know what's coming. My consolation? Anna has to go to the dentist tomorrow too.

I'm cruel like that. Coulda been a dental hygenist.

So Amy comes in this morning to collect my work and talk about my plans for the day and she opens with "OMG did you hear about Heidi's plastic surgery?? 10 in one day!". Of course I had heard about this, and was only too glad to discuss. You have to go out and pick up the newest People magazine to find out all the details (and I'm ashamed but so tempted), but if you look at the picture you will see that she has definitely had her nose redone and her chin looks smaller. And whats plastic surgery without some more boob? She kind of looks like a blonde version of that girl from the 2nd season of Dexter, Lila.

So it being a new year, I have a new dog calendar. Not puppies this year, just grown dogs. I think the jury is still out on this one. The puppies were probably cuter but the dogs are good looking too? Because the puppies were so cute...I can't throw the calendar away, so its just sitting pathetically on my desk. I don't scrapbook or make my own cards so I can't recycle it that way. I don't go to school so I can't use it to cover textbooks (and I'm pretty sure if I suggested this to my little sister she would look at me with disdain before dismissing me with "whatever"). I'm not going to plaster the pictures all over the walls. So what to do? This distresses me.

I think I'm getting an earache? Ear infection? If I am, this is only my 2nd one ever so I'm not even sure what the proper terminology is, but it hurts.

I remembered to bring a hairclip with me today and am a much happier person for it. Yesterday I somehow forgot (I always have one clipped to my purse) and I was seriously discombobulated by all my hair. It was warm in the office and my luscious locks were spread all over my shoulders, making it really extra warm (it might also have been due to a snotty email from a rep that got me all fired up). I ended up having to sharpen a pencil to stick in my hair to keep it up. It wasn't really that effective either. I guess I could have used one of the 2 hair elastics on my wrist, but they actually aren't strong enough to hold up my hair. I don't know why I have them with me either. I should get new ones.

I could listen to Lady Gaga's song Alejandro all day long. I almost did yesterday. Its awesome and you should love it too. Alejandro, Alejandro, Ale Ale Ale Alejandro...

I told Veronica I was bored and she responded with "Would you like me to give you more work?". Yes please--I'm clearly bored because I don't have enough work, not because the work is boring as f**k.

Apparently Norah Jones was on Regis and Kelly? Anyone care to explain the throwback to 2002?

I want fake nails. But not like the classy gel nails with the white tips (although, if they are too long, they are no longer classy) but like old school talon like fake nails. And then I want designs all over them so that they are more like art than nails. But I guess I would need to be a lady of leisure to be able to pull that off--I can't imagine you would be able to do anything with nails like that. Not open a can of pop, type properly, dig things out of your purse, pick things up off the floor, or any other menial daily task. Guess I better focus on world domination before fulfilling my dream of talon nails.

Finally, on a more serious note, I hope that some of you will join me in sending money to help the people in Haiti devastated by the earthquake. Here is a list of some agencies accepting donations to help out. I think these are mainly Canadian- if you are living outside of Canada, please take a look at what local agencies are offering help.

See? Even the Cubicle cares about other people. Just not John.

Wednesday, January 13, 2010

Three Reasons I Still Haven't Got A Raise

Maurice and I have been trading movie tips. He says that I need to see Avatar because its the most amazing movie ever made. And I told him that if he's looking for a good movie, he should go see The Young Victoria.

He made a face and said that he didn't even know what that was.

I tried to explain, but I think his brain shut off-- probably can only learn so many new things in one day and we had already discussed breakfast stuff (he had a grilled cheese sandwich for breakfast, I suggested that maybe he would enjoy cereal. And he doesn't like bacon).

I'll probably see Avatar but definitely not because Maurice told me to.

I thought that today might be a good day to introduce you to some new staff members. I feel like this week has been a lot about ranting and perhaps your auras need a break from all of the bad karma I'm throwing out there.

Turns out that we have a bunch of money that we can use to hire new people on, but not enough to give me a raise. Makes sense to me.

Because there is suddenly so much work to do (management has no foresight, it just happened all of a sudden) we obviously need to hire dozens of people and train them to help out.

And we got some good ones.

Sometimes they interview and hire normal people, that are able to learn quickly and fit in. And other times I'm not really sure what happens, but they hire some crazies. And this is the story of those crazies.

Today is the first day for a girl I will call Georgia. She is a medical school student, she worked with us as a Temp last year and then went back to school in the fall. She is back now to help out, and I assume, make some money to pay for school. Georgia was a supervisor favourite when she was here. I admit, she amuses me. She's a cool girl- wears cool outfits, has a cool haircut- has some awesome stories. About her cocaine usage. I'm not even making this up. She will tell Veronica stories about how she was high for days. There are also the more tame stories that start with shots of tequila. For Veronica, who is allergic to alcohol and who never goes to the bar except to pick her BF up, these stories are her window into another world. Veronica even wrote a recommendation for Georgia to go to medical school.

Because thats what the world needs- cokehead doctors.

My favourite new person has to be a guy that I shall call Nathan. Nathan has been here for maybe a month now and quickly managed to make a name for himself. As a giant goon. I haven't talked to him much (he's not worth the time) but what conversations we have had included his telling us how he used to be a chef but that there wasn't any room for advancement, discussions about how he is getting season's tickets for the local NHL team (FYI there is a wait list for about 3-5 years to get those) and he could get people a discount at the team store, and mutterings about his protein shakes. He actually brought a blender to work so that he could make himself protein shakes.

Aside from all the hot air though, the best part about Nathan are his interpretations of Casual Fridays. Normal people see Casual Fridays as a chance to wear jeans to work, maybe sneakers (kicks? runners? choose your favourite) and a button down or a sweater. Not Nathan. Nathan sees it as a chance to showcase his inner hoodrat. He favours caps (he will actually try to wear a hat inside at work every day- usually they are just perched on top of his head, at an angle, obviously) sideways (I think the term is Lidz? Or is that just where you can buy them?), those scarfs that are all wrapped around his neck like a rapper, giant sweaters, giant pants and often times, very loud colours.

I'm amazed no one has said anything to him. But am glad in a way, because I enjoy the judging I get to do.

Finally, my least favourite newbie. Keep in mind she has been here less than a week and I am the worst person for accurate first impressions, so maybe she is awesome. But so far Olga is lame. Here is what I know about Olga- she was living in Europe for the last 2 years, might be European, currently lives with her mom, looks older than most folks here and has a bandaid on her face. But not a cool bandaid like Nelly, its just on her chin and I'm thinking its covering up something nasty. Her favourite pastime is starting sentences off with "In Europe...". This gets old fast. Yesterday I was on a break and had to ensure an entire one-sided conversation about how European women never wear flats, they wear heels everywhere. I'm thinking she is Eastern European? I'm fairly certain this is not true of all European women- Mona, Angela, Emily? Care to clarify? She also makes really affected comments like "Bon Appetit ladies" as she leaves the lunchroom. She makes me want to scream a little.

Now before I go, I wanted to relay something I overheard between Georgia and Veronica.
V: ...maybe I will see him in South Africa
G: When are you going to South Africa?
V: June
G: Oh, so still pretty far away then.
V: Its not! Its SUCH a big deal!

Veronica trying to desperately get a cokehead's approval.


PS Dustin: Georgia was asking about you. I think she misses you.

Tuesday, January 12, 2010

All Talk, No Action

All anyone in the office can talk about is how the Olympics are going to affect our commute.

If this is all anyone will be able to talk about for the next month, there will be problems.

Its not that I'm not as upset and pissed off as the next person (probably more than the next person actually) its just that all the talking in circles accomplishes nothing and just gets me more aggravated. And when I get aggravated my filter shuts itself off (its like when your car overheats, it just stops).

And then no one wins.

I know I talked about the Olympic situation yesterday, but clearly it requires more discussion. And yes, I do realize that I'm just as bad as all the rest. But this is my blog and you're reading it, so its really already done.

There are a few problems, the way that I see things.

Most of these issues find themselves back to the root of all evil, John.

Let's discuss shall we?

1. Schedule. I really resent the fact that I am expected to completely alter my work schedule, and thus my eating and sleeping habits, because the executives don't want production to suffer. Newsflash: Too late. All this chatter about what will happen, what could happen and what should happen has already taken away more production than just shutting it all down in the first place. OK probably not, but you get the idea.

2. Lateness. I hate to be late (like the White Rabbit in Alice in Wonderland). I do everything in my power to never be late. If I think I'm going to be late, I let people know. This is true of me personally and professionally. But mostly, I pride myself on my punctuality (and a serious pet peeve of mine is that everyone else in my life seems to have a lateness problem). However, during the Olympics, with all the road closures, rerouting and extra passengers, there is only so much that I can do to ensure my timely arrival, short of camping out in the lunchroom. I would love a guarantee from John and his betters that we will not be punished for being late. I know this will not happen, but I would love it. I don't want to be talked to about the extra 10 minutes it took to get here, I don't want to hear stories about how you managed to get here on time even though you ran into a herd of elephants and had to rescue a baby from a runaway train. I want you to leave me alone and chalk it up to Olympic congestion.

**upate on this: I sent John and Amy an email requesting this guarantee. Totally put myself out there. Am totally going to get f**ked**

3. The Optics of the Team. We all know that John is obsessed with all things equal. He wouldn't let me take off earlier than everyone else on Christmas Eve last year because even though I started earlier, it wouldn't be fair (to me, but that is a whole other post). In order for us to be allowed to adjust our schedule for the Olympics, we need to basically prove that we will be affected. If you live too close, you are not allowed. But John- how is this fair? In a phrase: Its not. But the best of all, the cherry on the top of the proverbial sundae is that managers and people like Amy who have a work laptop, get to work from home. Because its fair to make us change our schedules, make me go to bed at 8 and miss all my favourite shows, but management (who is making these rules) gets to stay at home because they don't want to deal with the hassle. Total equality in the Cubicle.

I think my head just exploded.

Update on the Update: I got an email back from John. He said nothing in a lot of words. He said nothing about what I asked for, but talked around in a circle about how they were going to work with each person to make this all as painless as possible. The highlight? No harsh consequences (in other words we will still have to make up any time). Something about how we are all making sacrifices (except for him and his cronies of course) and finished off with an offer to get together and talk.

Because what I want most in the world is more face time with John.

I am really fighting the urge to walk out today. Much stronger than most days.

I would settle for the chance to b*tch slap John though. I'm nothing if not flexible.

Monday, January 11, 2010

Early Bird Gets The Worm

Why would anyone show up at work at 7am if they don't have to?

Well there was a minor airport detour this morning. The Swede has left. Am sad. She needed to be at the airport for 5.30 this morning, and being the superstar friends that we are, The Boyfriend and I accompanied her. Probably for the best-- there was a close call with the United Airlines agent. If we hadn't held her back...well I hope the woman's family is grateful.

But leaving the airport at 6.20, I either go to work, call in sick or go home and come back later.

Tempting though it was to call in sick, I'm trying not to do that. Or at least save it for later this week. Going home just to get on the bus and come to work seems ridiculous. So here I am.

Sad, and puffy eyed, but working. On my blog.

I'm not going to lie- the airport scene got a little messy. Am so not in the mood to deal with anyone's sh*t. Like people that eat other people's yoghurt.

I don't know who did it (twice!) and I'm not going to be that person that sends out an email about eating other people's yoghurt. But I'm annoyed. That's my damn yoghurt. I have so few pleasures in my work day and my yoghurt is one of them. Today I took precautionary measures. It says my name in giant, fat, black sharpie letters. So if someone eats it today- well that's no longer a mistake, you're just an a**hole.

You know that today it will be something to small that sets me off.

I'm trying to think of today as a practice run.

This might be giving too much away, but a little thing called the Olympics is (are?) coming to town.

Now I love the Olympics as much as the next person. All those demonstrations of insane physical talent. The stories behind the champions. The records broken, dreams reached, and superstars made. All of it, I love. I'm seriously an Olympic junkie.

But honestly, not this time.

Not in my city.

I figure my city is already on the map, we don't really need to be drawing more attention to it. Plus all that money that is being thrown at Olympic sites and officials- I feel like we have more pressing problems that we could spend the money on.

Then again, I'm just a disgruntled blogger, so I don't know anything.

OK so I had a point.

I work in the city. The heart of the city. The city is going to be closed to traffic.


Sure, buses and the skytrain will still run. And I take the bus, so I should be fine right?


Last week the transit authority comes out and tells regular users to expect extreme delays when using transit after between 7 and 9 in the morning and any time after 2 in the afternoon (Hey! That's when I use transit! Cool!) As if a football game, concert and the fireworks were all ending at the same time, for 18 nights straight. You could be waiting for a train to get out of the city for 2 hours.

A lot of offices are shutting down for that reason. Don't think its worth the headache (I concur). Some are forcing their employees to take their vacations. Some are giving a week's free vacation. The really awesome ones are just shutting it all down, with the option of working from home.

But I don't work in any of those places.

Solution? Start early, leave early.

This means that for the 2 glorious weeks of Olympic sport, I get to wake up at 4.30, leave my house for 5.15 and get to work at 6am.

Its going to be an Olympic event just getting out of the city in the afternoons. All those extra people.

The executive team? Working from home.

Way to set an example guys.

I guess it could all turn out OK. Maybe no one will come?

Friday, January 8, 2010

Stalker Boss

Don't get excited you guys, Khloe Kardashian is not pregnant. She's just gained 7lbs of "love weight".

Now that we have that out of the way, let's get into it shall we?

Yesterday I had a very unpleasant encounter. With John. I'm still a little shook up about the whole thing.

Here's some back story. I'm technically supposed to work until 4.30 every day. But because I generally get to work at 8.10 or 8.15 I take off at 4.25. This way I can catch a bus that gets me home about 20 minutes earlier than the one right after it. I send a report to Amy every day showing what I did that day and its obviously stamped with the time. She has never said a word about it. I mean in the end, I'm the one that's losing out here. Not like I get to leave at 4.10 when I get here at 8.10 -- for the "optics" of the team, it has to be "fair" for everyone.

Something like that.

Now you are caught up.

At 4.25 I was leaving the office. I saw that John had his coat on but he was talking to Amy so I figured he would leave after me and I wouldn't have to walk with him at any part of my short walk to the bus.

I put my head phones in and walk away. I just got new headphones and they are the ones that have that little rubber thing around them that totally blocks out all sounds from the outside world and makes the music louder. I'm enjoying a little old school JT and I feel a hand on my shoulder.

A cold fist clamps itself over my heart. Quick thinking: this is either a homeless man taking it one step too far or its John. I would rather it be a homeless man. Honestly, the touching-- too far John too far. Not to mention, I could have totally kicked him in the balls and run away screaming.

Instead I turned around slowly to be face to face with the devil himself. And instead of just a "good night, see you tomorrow" he starts talking about work. About how I shouldn't lose any sleep over the List he never sent me because he was in meetings all day.

Like I care.

I figure he's going to cross the street (I have an idea of the neighbourhood he lives in and I know he walks to work) so I deliberately turn right. He walks with me. Then I tell him that I have to jaywalk here to get to my bus. Say "see you tomorrow" and run (so as not to get hit by a bus obviously). I'm seriously annoyed when I see him jogging across the street to join me. Here John made a funny. Says that he's taking Stalking 101 and this is one of his lessons "Awkward Goodbyes".

OMG John, you are hilarious. Seriously, let me just take a moment. I think I have a stitch from all the laughter.


I think I muttered something about him definitely passing that class...

Apparently he's actually on his way to a restaurant up the street and just lost his bearings.

Awesome. I have no way to get rid of him.

So then he's all "where do you catch your bus?". I tell him just up the street. I add that if I don't catch this one then it will take me an extra 20 minutes to get home.

He takes out his phone, looks at the time and says to me "It's 4.26, do you think you will have enough time?"

I was so stunned that I just nodded. But I know what he meant. He meant to point out that I had left work before 4.30, which is when I'm allowed to leave. I'm sure that I will get an email. I kind of feel like I'm a little bit f**ked.

But I mean, if Amy has never had an issue (and I'm fairly certain she's aware, she doesn't miss a lot) then why does John? I mean, he's technically not even in charge of us anymore.

Whatever. It just pissed me off.

With all of this bus kerfuffle going on, I was relieved that it was Friday today and I would be getting a ride from St. Boyfriend.

But he decided that he wanted to sleep in. Apparently going to the movies in the middle of the day and 4 days off next week aren't enough. So while he had several drinks last night and stayed up late chatting with the Swede, I had to go to bed at 10, sober, because I had to get up early to take the bus.

Oh don't worry, I know I'm being a total brat. But its his own fault. He's the one that started with the driving me to work. And people that don't take the bus just don't understand how nice it is not to have to take the bus. They take it for granted.

I hope the movie sucks.

Enjoy the weekend!

Thursday, January 7, 2010

Being Passive Aggressive

So today I think I shall use this here blog to get some things off my chest. Whats that you say? I always do that? Well that is technically true. But I address it to no one in particular and I think that the time has come to call out some of the d-bags I work with, or people that I encounter on my way to work (lady bus driver). Of course, its completely passive- aggressive because (God hoping) none of them read this, but it will make me feel better. And blogging is about nothing if not self-gratification.

So here we go.

Dear Veronica,

I know that you are so excited about your pending trip to South Africa. But its 6 months away. And I do not intend to hear about it every day for the next half year. I don't care what route you are taking. I don't care that you booked a little bed and breakfast in Cape Town where you will sleep in some old woman's house and get croissants for breakfast while you look out over the city. I don't care that you are attempting to read up about the history of the country (I know you saw Invictus but I have yet to see any actual proof that you are reading anything) basically because I'm not going. I'm really happy for you that you make enough money here to be able to just run off to South Africa for the World Cup and stay there for a month, but you don't need to leave your online banking open so that you can prove it. I would love for you to pretend that you are an actual supervisor, taking the good with the bad.

And for God's sake, stop wearing flip flops to work! I don't care that you got a pedicure!

Sincerely, Bored@Work


Dear Lady Bus Driver,

I get it. You drive a bus and you probably hate it. I would hate it too- all those people all the time. None of them probably even acknowledge you, or the fact that you have to drive the same route all day every day in city traffic. I get it. I smile, I say "Good Morning" to you every day. But I don't get a smile or any acknowledgement back? What is that about? And then you take it a step further, don't you, by calling out people on the bus when they haven't paid enough. Most bus drivers just let it slide. They recognize that a) the buses are ridiculously expensive here and b) they could get stabbed over $2. So they let it lie. But not you. Oh no. You get on your speaker and you call the guy out who got in on the back doors. Not allowed, you say. Only the front doors, you remind him. Or that time that the couple who couldn't speak English didn't know that they hadn't paid you enough and didn't understand that you were talking to them. But you didn't get the bus moving until someone else had tried to mime to them that they were the ones holding up the bus. Couldn't let it go. You will get the money. From anyone.

Just relax. Smile once in a while. Seriously stop calling people out, because I promise you not everyone will be so passive about it. Don't you watch the news lady? While we're at it, can nothing be done about the road down the mountain? I feel like my head is going to become detached from my body with all that shaking.

Seriously, Bored@Work


Dear Maurice,

I just really want to thank you. For being you. And for bringing sunshine into the Cubicle. You're not aware of it of course, but I promise you its there. You don't know what garlands are, never heard of Milli Vanilli and you don't know anything about Full House. Its like you're not a whole person. But you keep on truckin' don't you? You come to work every day, dress yourself like a big boy and say to the world "Hello World". Sure, you never refill the printer. Or really know what you're doing. You get chewed out for the same thing every single time (here's a hint man, start reading over things before you send them out) but you stubbornly persist in doing things your way. I guess you didn't get this far by listening to other people.

You hang in there Maurice. You're a f**king star.



Dear Amy,

I know that this isn't where you saw yourself. And this job was kind of thrown on you. You haven't been allowed to really take charge and do it on your own either. But that doesn't give you the right to sit by while John takes charge and patronizes your staff. We are your staff. The only one that gets to yell at us, is you. You may not realize this, but we respect you. Sure, sometimes you come across as an ice queen. But we know that you are just under a lot of pressure. Its OK. But please don't let John walk all over you and take charge. He walked away remember? You're the manager. Please start acting like it.



Oh you knew it was coming...

Dear John,

Don't worry, this isn't that kind of letter. You have been in charge of this department for over a year now and you have managed to make exactly no changes. When you came in you were all about changing attitudes, making people feel good about coming to work etc etc. And just FYI: you have completely f**king failed at all of that. Not only have you failed, you have gone backwards. I'm pretty sure when the D-bag-with-no-name was in charge all we had to really worry about was being watched for time- making sure we got to work on time, and took perfectly timed breaks. But not now. Oh no. Now there is so much more we need to watch out for. You have managed to belittle, disrespect, question, harass and needle people each and every day for a good...8 months now. Does it feel good? Do you enjoy making people feel like s**t every day?

Do you know whats not acceptable? Not knowing what the hell is going on in your own department. And undermining the manager of that department. Because I don't know if you got the memo John, but about 5 months ago, you actually stepped back from the running of this department. You passed the reins to Amy. But you couldn't step back could you? You couldn't just walk away. You had to keep sticking your stupid ugly nose back in, when no one wants you around! Everything that goes on in this department? Its none of your business. If Amy wants a hand, she'll find you. You don't need to babysit.

Don't think for a second that you have gotten away with any of this. Do you honestly think that I am going to sit down and take all of your sh*t? Do you know me at all? No you don't- you had no interest in getting to know me. Well you're going to find out exactly what I think of you. And so are your superiors. When I quit. And I will quit one of these days John. There's this little thing that they call an exit interview and I have a list of things that I would like to go over. All the things that you have said to me, done to me, done to the department- its all written down. I don't want to forget a thing when I finally have my chance to throw you under the bus.




Oh wow. That last one felt really really good. I can't wait until I win the lottery or get another job. Whichever comes first. And we are getting close people, we are getting close. The economy is picking up, we have begun the mortgage process (that's why I've been staying so long) and its only a matter of time before I get to tell John off. But seriously, that was therapeutic you should all try it.

Wednesday, January 6, 2010

Mixed Signals

Yesterday I came to work, changed out of my rain boots and noticed that I had put my tights on inside out. This is what comes of dressing in the dark.

Well yesterday did not turn out to be a very good day. I blame it on the tights. And someone who bet against their country.

But today, my tights are on right. However, its not shaping up to be a much better day.

Let's start with something light, from yesterday.

I overheard someone in the other department on the phone with someone that, I'm guessing, was new to the job. In order to make that person feel more comfortable our guy says "oh that's OK, I'm happy to be your first".

Isn't every guy?

I'm sure it sounded innocent enough in his head, but to my guttermind, oh man.

So yesterday I ended up postponing my post all morning because I was sure that John would walk up behind me and catch me. And that would be bad. He had told me the night before (as I was leaving) that he had some concerns about that damn List of his that I work on.

The conversation amused Anna, so here it is for your pleasure:

(at 4.20 (I leave at 4.25))
John: hey, I know that you're on your way out...
me: yes. I am.
John: *pause* OK I just had some concerns...
me: well can we deal with that tomorrow? (I'm not even looking at him, just carrying on with shutting down)
John; so I guess I will take another look and I will email you the details.
me: sure.

I showed him right?

So all morning I'm waiting for him to show up, or send me an email. Which he doesn't do. So I get trained on other things (things that require mucho printing, right when they are taking my printer away. smart) and am plugging away and finally Anna tells me that "its better to walk into the lion's den than for the lion to find you". I really liked the visual. Although I tend to think of lions as being noble creatures and I definitely do not associate the word noble with John. Serpent-like perhaps. Or sneaky. Diabolical. Douche-y. Those sound more like John, less like lions.

But I got the point. I went to look for him, but he was in a meeting. Surprise, surprise. No doubt something to do with where to go for coffee today. So I sent him an email. I told him that I was wondering if he still wanted to talk about his concerns about the List and that I hadn't had a chance to work on it because I kept being assigned other duties. I told him that I didn't think that other people (namely Veronica) were taking the List very seriously.

Hours later, I got an email telling me that the List wasn't that important and to concentrate on other duties. But then this morning Amy tells me that John still wants to talk to me about his concerns regarding the List.

I am so confused.

As she tells me this she hands me a stack of new work and tells me to forget about everything else. But first to finish the stuff from yesterday.


Now its been a while since I have given you all an update on Veronica. And I'm sure that you are all dying to know what is going on with her. I would be.

As you are no doubt aware (I am reminded almost daily), Veronica is going to South Africa for the World Cup. So every day there is some kind of update on her progress. I'm fairly certain that her flight is booked already. To be fair, Anna is the one that gets most of these updates firsthand (I tend to tune a lot of it out at this point since its going to be a long 6 months) but she lets me know what's going on.

Apparently she is leaving in just 150 short days and she has a million things to do. Obviously she needs to know more about the history of South Africa so she is working on reading a 10 page summary. I guess 10 pages should just about sum it up right? After all, its not a complicated history or anything. And reading 10 pages should definitely take the better part of a month. But then again, this is the girl who thought that reading Russell Brand's Booky Wook was difficult.

She needs to get a passport. I'm assuming she already had one because she did go to Mexico last year, but I guess it has expired. I'm betting that she waits a long time to get that done and then stresses about it last minute.

Apparently before she leaves, there are weddings and bachelorette parties that she has to plan and/or attend. I think that she believes that if she and her boyfriend of 9 years are the last ones standing, she will finally get that ring and her happily ever after. I'm more inclined to think that in the end she will get nothing. I've met the guy, heard the stories- that boy is not going to marry her. And, honestly, that makes me feel bad for her. I wish she could see it and move on.

There's one more thing but I feel really hypocritical judging her on it. So I won't.

If you kept track- that is 4 things to do in 150 days. I can see why she is stressing.

Let's just all move on from yesterday and hope that as we get closer to the weekend, the Universe does us a favour and speeds up time. And then obviously slows it down again over the weekend.


Tuesday, January 5, 2010

Rain Delay

Not so much a rain delay as a life delay. I would love to sit here and bitch about work (you know how I love me some bitching) but I just don't have the energy.

You do deserve some kind of explanation for my lack of posting though. Are you ready for some real life?

Today my mom tells me that her puppy was hit by a car and killed yesterday. Oh and my dad's car was stolen.

Needless to say that that's a little too much reality for my cubicle and while John was lurking around f**king up my day, I just don't have the heart to make a mockery of the office Lucifer today.

In Memory of a very sweet puppy.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Monday, January 4, 2010

Tried On A New Attitude. It Didn't Fit

Predictably, last night being Sunday, I did not sleep.

But I tried not to let that ruin my Monday (like anything I could do could make a Monday worse). I got up, showered (see? I tried to respect Monday), had a healthy well balanced breakfast, got in some Ellen time and walked out the door ready to start the new year with a new attitude.

Its not like the thought of calling in sick didn't cross my mind as I lay in bed pleading with Mr. Sandman to send me a dream. But I ignored it (showing incredible strength of character I might add) and got up and went to work. Like a good little worker bee.

I'm not really sure why I bothered.

Today it is pouring rain (well it was when I was walking to the bus, it seems to have abated somewhat now, a futher F**k you from the Universe perhaps?) and I forgot that my umbrella is literally in shambles. There were some rather violent windstorms recently and my little umbrella got swept up in them, turned inside out and very nearly ripped from my chapped hands, several times. One of the arms (are they called arms? no idea- today they are) is sticking out, waiting to poke someone in the eye (most likely me) and in the meantime, contents itself with getting caught in my hair, shawl, hat, anything and everything.

So by the time the bus rolled up, I was pretty soaked.

And wouldn't you know it? On this first day back, there is traffic. Unusually heavy traffic. Turns out a pedestrian was hit. By a bus. On my route.


(Coincidentally, a bus that the Swede was on last week hit a pedestrian).

Not a good start for anyone. Obviously this is actually really tragic but what kind of blogger would I be if I allowed this post to take such a horrible downturn? I shall only dwell on the mundane and annoying, not actual bad things. Those I like to ignore.

I narrowly manage to get to work on time (they also changed where my bus stop is. It used to be a block from work, now its 2) only to realize that Claire is not here to feel my pain. Today is the first day of her new life...

Hold everything. John is back. I just heard his voice. Damn it! I really hoped that he would come down with some horrific affliction while he was in Mexico. Or maybe something else bad would happen- there is a lot of drug violence down there, you never know!

But no. He made it home, slightly burnt but otherwise, none the worse for wear.

I'm losing patience quickly.

They want me to do some work (obviously) but haven't actually given it to me. So I'm not sure exactly what they want me to do in the meantime...

I'm just really annoyed that John is back. He's so sneaky and he will be lurking, waiting for me to do something wrong. Before he left he caught me reading someone's awesome blog (thanks a lot Mr. Apron ) and was all what are you doing? I told him I needed a mental break and he said that I should be putting up my break sign if I was going to do that.

That's right. Ladies and Gentlemen, we have little magnets that we are supposed to put up on our cubicles when we are on our designated breaks. We are like children.

Oh goody, now I get to learn how to do something new. Not sure when I will have time to do this, since no one else helps me with my current job. But I guess all things are possible in the Cubicle Nation.

Its a long way til April...