Archive for category outer demons
I would imagine most of us either do or did share space with our co-workers at some point in our lives. I like to think of myself as pretty lenient, but then don’t we all?
I don’t care if you have fish for lunch and eat at your desk. If you blow your nose, I won’t even notice. If you’re loud as shit, it won’t bug me unless I’m on the phone too and I can’t hear because of you. If the background noise annoys me, that’s what earbuds are for.
For the most part, I like most of my co-workers. When I don’t, I have very little to do with them and keep it strictly business and as thoroughly documented as I can and I can count on one hand (disproportionate to the number of posts in which I may bitch about them. I inflict it on you guys so I don’t inflict it at work, in case you didn’t know) those I truly dislike and most of that is just, I don’t trust them. Otherwise, I barely recall they are there.
I’m kind of dismissive like that, I really get annoyed with myself for letting anyone bug me for too long.
However, since I live in the butt-crack of Satan’s ass that is the South, and we only have three seasons, well two really… Summer, or “hey, let’s see if people can physically stew at 115 with 98% humidity”, and some bland lowered volume version of summer that fosters mass bug breeding and plant sexing with the occasional unseasonal freakish freeze just to keep us all guessing and justifies the whopping six snowplows the entire state owns….
The weather is a personal hell for me.
I would ideally have my house at 69 degrees fahrenheit all the time and have begun to miss the office I had years ago in which my two immediate neighbors were going through menopause.
Even though I was born and raised here, I’ve never been ok with outdoors. I thought I simply hated all outdoor activities until I moved to the northwest and found out outside could be really damn cool, without mass underbrush and feeding an entire legion of ticks in under ten minutes. When I found out roaches just couldn’t survive the northwest weather, I was convinced this is what utopia must be like.
I got close enough to a moose to slap it in the face… if I stood on my car.
Those damn things are huge.
Now I share an office where most of the people are on dumbfuck starvation diets or they have the blood density of ice water and while I’m coping at 73 degrees, they want to “bump it up” to “knock of the chill.”
Go eat a fucking twinkie!
My current office is not cramped, but its only just big enough for the people in it and one in particular thinks that she is completely justified in planting a heater under her desk with a thermal blanket and a heating pad. It’s 80 degrees outside right now and its going up every day. Ironic, since this is also Yankee Heather…. from the North…. where it fucking snows….
Her boss is the one on the craptastic long term low-cal and massively unhealthy diet. Not surprising where her mood swings really stem from.
The others do get chilly from time to time, one piles under a blanket, we think she’s sick and just refuses to go to the doctor, another has a light sweater. But I still wonder…
What the fuck is wrong with all of you?!? Go outside until you sweat your ass off, until your shirt sticks enough to qualify for a bar contest since sweat doesn’t work here, but don’t subject the rest of society with your complete inability to insulate against anything!
I haven’t lived in the northwest in over ten years, but I miss it when summer hits here. I crawl inside and kill my a/c because I don’t want to remember where I live until it becomes bearable again… for a couple months.
So for those of you who have ever had to share space with a co-worker(s), was your biggest pet peeves?
I had a luscious amount of time off, reveled in it like you would not believe, and really, really, really did not want to go back to work…. at all. Ever.
It’s moments like this you remember that your life has become all about a vicious cycle of paychecks and there is nothing about it that really gives you any joy. Even though my annual salary is more than I used to make at my last job, the actual money I get to take home is significantly less than I was pulling four years ago… while contributing to a retirement. I’ve lowered every bill I have and I still cannot afford it.
The medical account wasn’t at the other spot, so that does play a factor, but doesn’t amount to even half the money I’m missing these days. Of course, when you have student loans, they only see the before tax amount. Trying to get them to comprehend anything else is inexcusable and some failing on your own.
I guess that’s true. It’s something I should have noted my first year here and done what I could to find somewhere else to work instead. Back then it was a nicer place to work co-worker wise but it had a bad financial situation that spoke to the fixer in me. Apparently, I can only have one or the other working properly at any one time.
Yankee Heather and I were moved to a shared mailbox. I like them, it makes sense, it keeps others from having to remember each and every person and still be confident you will get an answer.
I used to think I was just the faster of the two in organizing it, considering about 90% of it was mine anyway. Anything that belonged to Yankee Heather was put in a directory for her alone. It wasn’t a great system, but it worked.
So the fates saw fit, when it was time to go back to the grind, to give me a nice fever and a bad cold. I felt guilt and was restless, so I checked the work email from home to see 298 unread emails.
Apparently, I wasn’t faster. I was simply the only one bothering to check the email at all.
This became ironic….
After weeks and weeks of hot/cold behavior towards me, I finally managed to get Yankee Heather alone and asked her if she had some beef with me. She said no. I asked if she was sure. She did the confused “noooo?” unconvincingly.
The facade shorted the second I asked if that was the case, could she please cut out the passive-aggressive Heathers level bullshit.
That’s when the yelling started. I was unprofessional. She didn’t like my tone. I had no business checking behind her work (that one confused me, but some of the stuff I do is preventative measures for errors for everything in the system and it does include hers). I was very unprofessional (again) to which I asked if she really preferred to do this kind of thing in an HR office because I thought we saw it the same way on that point. Then she blurted out she’d just been written up for being unprofessional and she wasn’t going to have it happen again. I asked how that was my fault, but she was gone.
The next day, I’m blocked out of the shared mailbox and now the VP forwards our email to us.
The insinuation was there were “missing things.”
I can reproduce every single email I’ve ever written ever since I started working here. I moved over every email I had out of my personal box (as long as it wasn’t personal, which was deleted) over to the shared one so everything I did and said was completely transparent. So all of this is bullshit misdirection of the emotionally immature.
Had this been my boss, she would have been swift and exacting like a pediatric neurosurgeon and this would have been long over. But the VP believes this person she hand-picked is made of gold in spite of all the apparent evidence to the contrary (the write -up was a surprise). The VP also secretly loves the drama, so she gives passive-aggression a corner office and buys it lunch. Weeks later, we’re still having our email forwarded when it was only going to be “two days, three at most.”
I have come across this personality twice before, one around my age, one from the generation before and all I know is that this will get worse until one of us is gone.
So, I updated my resume and sent it off with two placement agencies so far with the goal to relocate sometime in the summer.
I started tackling everything on my desk, every single item on a to-do list of “it can wait until I get other more important things done.” Anything that needed scanning, got scanned, named, filed. Small and large housekeeping level bullshit I’ve avoided because there were higher priority items, is all getting done.
It’s my way: leave things as clean as I can for whoever is next.
I was so caught up, that I read a book one Friday. I had nothing else.
I also got my review… after 3 years of nothing, and under the pretense they revamped the way they did the reviews, I only rated mid-range. It was worse than my last when their complaint was I didn’t eat lunch. I got a small raise and yet again I was told I need to work on communication.
I’m getting fucking tired of hearing this. It’s like a broken fucking record replayed by the VP that started during a time when most of my day was spent “communicating” nicely that we couldn’t pay anyone.
Translation: “why can’t you make anyone happy that we’re not paying them?”
You know what happens when you owe someone?
They call, they write, then call again. If they could show up at your house, they would. Hell, they’d call your mom if they could find their number. We sure as hell did when it was from our end (Seriously, we called a customer’ mother….). What they never said was “wow, that person just doesn’t communicate effectively when they told me they would check on our payment schedule and get back to me, I should recommend they work on that.”
You know what people want to know when you owe them?
When its coming.
Since I didn’t know that a good majority of the time, nothing was effective.
Don’t get me wrong. I get there is a lesson with everything and I asked for examples. I said walk me through a scenario when I had done something that was lacking in the communication area and how I could have done better.
I left feeling nothing but frustrated because all I was given was the most broad and ambiguous of answers. Trump kind of answers. Long, nonsensical word salad with no actual content.
It makes you wonder what the fuck the point was of bringing up something you could not cite any kind of demonstration for? In almost four years, I’ve done nothing to give you one example, even a vague one you can point to and give me some direction on how I’m not communicating to your standard?
So after a year of putting aside the pepcid bottle, I’m back on it. And right now, just typing all of this out is giving me such an epic headache that I feel like my eyeballs will pop.
I also asked a couple co-workers from other departments if they could give me feedback on this area. I figured people I knew well enough would be more forthcoming if there is a problem. So far, still nothing.
At this point, the only thing I can venture to guess is that the VP is mainly complaining that she wants to know every move and fart I make. It would make sense, given her character. Doing remedial bullshit gives her something to complain about since it detracts from “her real job” and makes her feel important. She complained about having to forward email, but it was her idea to set it up. Her real job is basically to balance the co-owners bank book and take his shit. Past that, everything else has sort of … created? In her head or his doesn’t really matter. However, there is a reason that no matter how long she is out, things run as they always have… but with less drama.
We seem to conflict a lot on the way we see things. She reports everything she overhears to HR. I tend to believe you clean your shit in-house and always have a unified front. Unless it is something about retirement, benefits or something I have grounds for a lawsuit on, I have no reason to take anything to HR. Petty melodramatic crap should be able to be ironed out in a single conversation and eliminated. I don’t care if I hate your guts, anyone outside our department should think we’re besties.
And when it comes to communication, trust the people you hired to do a job unless given a real cause to doubt. There is a culture here that is based on tattling. The VP is very much one of the worst offenders, but then will become equally irate when its done to our department. I appreciate the latter, but her karma really works against us. We have a couple of managers who LOVE to try to report our department for not doing our job.
Unfortunately, by the time I’ve even had a chance to see it and respond to resolve it, its already had half a dozen unrelated people flipping their shit over nothing. Not once has the source of the discourse not also been the actual cause of the problem, and given my track record of saving emails, I usually have a lot of proof to shut it down.
But its too late, they’d flipped their shit and now it has no outlet so we still get the backlash. I’ve yet to figure out how that works.
As for Yankee Heather, they decided to bandage the gunshot wound and are trying to separate us further workwise. I made a list of things I’d happily turn over for Yankee Heather to do instead. I’ve done this dance before. It never works. I pointed out that when you had more than one person doing the same thing, they were going to inevitably travel into one another’s territory and most people should not only find that doable, but pleasant. If they didn’t, there was no amount of separation that fixes a person’s character.
The VP said she was aware of everything that was going on and they would do their best to handle it and and address it when she could.
I hit the end of the year and had 12 days of vacation time to take by the end of the year or lose it. I was able to roll over five days but it still left me a bit over a work week to figure out when to fit it all in. Of all the BS that’s occurred these last few months, not being sick much at all this year kind of blows my mind.
With the holidays kind of slammed together and the time we already had off, I got about two weeks where I only showed up for one day each week and that was it. I could totally get used to that…
We had my favorite temp in while I was out during that time since he had school holiday and could use the cash, bless him. He’d picked up things so quickly I trained him on pretty much the bulk of everything I did without involving the complex stuff, so when I did come back, I was in pretty good shape and if he had any problems, he would just text me.
I love a good team.
Unfortunately, it makes the discord going on with others that should technically be part of my team just more blaringly obvious.
It was wonderful not to be around the mood swing bullshit. Yankee Heather is prone to wild mood swings and passive aggressive crap these days. Her sidekick is our buyer downstairs in purchasing. Anytime I said something that pissed her off, he would storm out and be gone for a while. Bitch session I guess.
The catalyst seems to have started about the time she made some disparaging remarks about another of our co-workers and I said I liked the person quite a lot and found them wonderful. I went further, as I’m prone to doing, and made a remark that if the person in question found her caustic, Yankee Heather and her abrasive personality were probably the culprit… and she probably owed her an apology.
I think that is when I went on the shit list for good.
Course, it could also be when I attributed her “Back in Bumfuck, Newbrahoma…” remarks as sounding like the band camp girl from American Pie.
With me, it’s hard to tell.
I know that I was the topic of some group chat bashing, a confession only made by the Hippy shortly after her last revelation without elaboration since she was being baited into joining in it, she said, but it didn’t much surprise me.
Apparently, the disparaged co-worker and their boss (the Hippy is on the same team) were more forthcoming in regards to just how bad Yankee Heather is, the former having saved all interactions in writing, while the latter threatened to run her off should she try to trespass into their department.
It makes a terrible impression of my department, not least of which during the same period when right around Christmas, the VP of our department decided to lodge a complaint against some kid she didn’t like and accused him of being drunk at work.
I liked the kid a lot, most of us in my department did, with one very loud exception. But his termination was being blamed on my department. So I went to the source of the problem and discussed it with her and how completely fucking wrong she was.
What the bitch didn’t know was the kid had been mugged not even a couple days before and in the midst of trying to get away from his attacker, hit a brick wall so hard he gave himself a concussion. He wouldn’t tell anyone that because he was embarrassed. It wasn’t manly. The goose egg on his head, the bandage and slow speech were all indicative of painkillers and yes, he should have had his ass at home. He didn’t. He came to work, decided while he was outside at some point that he needed to pee and went in the nearest bush… on camera.
With that footage and combined complaint, he was toast. This was a kid I sat next to outside of work and got to know and watched nurse one beer for three hours and left when his grandmother needed him. That’s not the behavior of a drunk. Better point being what the VP guzzles down in one weekend, by their own admission, would take that kid and myself a year to plow through, so who’s being judgey?
Yes, pissing in a bush at work was a stupid decision, but not enough to be fired. I addressed all of this with the VP, my penance for getting sucked up in all the bashing of a prior time. Go to the source, resolve it, don’t let it fester. Don’t be like my family 😉
Yankee Heather went downstairs and cried to her sidekick, effectively making it all about herself. When she’d bled that turnip dry, she returned and thanked me for saying something. I was in the middle of telling her to go fuck herself when our respective bosses came in and I didn’t get the chance.
Spawn often tells me my face and expressions are an open book to what I want to say, so I can only hope the surprised expression Tammy Faye had on her face meant she knew how to read the message written across mine.
Somewhere near the end of the year, with the doom of Thanksgiving and Christmas looming, I got a wild streak to basically throw everything out and scrub it all down with bleach.
Sometimes, I wish I could do this with my brain.
The Yankee is steadily showing herself to be more of a Heather. The Hippy, who has stuck up for her for the longest time suddenly said one afternoon after work “Put some distance from her, for your own sake.” She didn’t elaborate and at the time, I didn’t feel I needed to ask. I kind of got the gist.
God, I’m too old for this shit.
The Yankee made a shit first impression from the get go. You don’t move to the South, shit on southern education (which you’ve never personally experienced) for which most of your co-workers are by-products of.
You don’t go off about how your Master’s degree should exempt you from doing shitty work, like my job. Especially not if you keep reminding me what you do when I catch your bullshit mistakes in the process of doing my own job. If you don’t want me to catch your mistakes, stop making them.
I also have to appreciate the irony of me, the southerner, having to explain to said Yankee that making remarks like “only some blacks actually fall under the N word” is indeed a racist statement. For someone whose boyfriend likes to reiterate they won “the war,” his girlfriend doesn’t seem to understand what that means.
Perhaps its because I cannot pour bleach on her to flush her away that I felt the need to purge my world. We’ve made several trips to Goodwill. Spawn still has some stuffed animals to cover. What idiot bought this kid this many toys?
I finally dismantled the bed and took it to my co-worker who lost so much when we had the storms and flooding.
It felt good. I even tossed the curtains that had been hanging since Spawn was a baby and bought new ones I really couldn’t afford but my sense of well being couldn’t afford me not to. I’m pretty sure I won’t be taking them with me if I move, but I feel better and more refreshed in my home now. Spawn was unusually supportive and worked with me as I went. Maybe I wasn’t the only one needing to purge.
Of course, when the bulk of it was done and there was almost an echo in the house, my instinct is seeking out anything else to eliminate, measuring out what I can break down to nothing as keep worthy, while Spawn’s response was to point how little clothing they had left that actually fit.
I think I’ve already gone over how the VP in our department thinks I’m a fucking idiot, something even the Yankee picked up on even though my boss tries her best to play the diplomatic card as much as possible. My boss rocks as they are not the type to get into drama and will get pissed at the issue, not the person. They also have a tendency to try to see the best in others and want to explain bad behavior under a more rational light. Sometimes a bitch is just a bitch. Also, like I told my boss… I have to value the opinion to give a shit what it is.
The VP has more than once told me I scare her. I’m starting to wonder if she isn’t kidding.
The owners decided they wanted to see more training since our financial situation (i.e. people finally started paying their fucking bills and we got bitchier about getting them paid) started getting better. My stress level once this occurred plummeted. Up until that point, the VP wanted to send me to a class on communication skills, which in a meeting with one of the owners and the VP present, I pointed out “There’s only so many ways you can communicate ‘we can’t pay you because we’re not getting paid.'” The owner readily agreed, the VP stfu about it, but it was still on the to-do that we should have training of some sort.
Yankee and I both saw an advanced Excel class we thought might be interesting, so we requested that. VP is not so skilled in Excel, in fact usually asking for Yankee’s help and marveling at the skills, even when its a minor thing. VP and I don’t really interact much work-wise, so it became apparent she had no clue of my skill level when she suggested it would be too much for me, and I just said “I highly doubt it considering I’ve already taken the advanced certification courses. This would be little more than a refresher unless they’re getting into the actual VB coding or in-depth macros without the step-through recorder.”
I lost her somewhere in the first ten words, I could see it in her face. She backpedaled a bit, and it wasn’t long before she had signed up for the same course but before ours.
She came back afterwards and said she learned a couple small things but they didn’t go over anything she didn’t already know. Before I could stop myself I said “well that’s disappointing, I thought it was supposed to be an advanced class.”
The Yankee coughed to hide their snort, but we were rather concerned that we wouldn’t be getting much out of this. It looked like the only classes that were more of our cup of tea were a minimum of two days and about five times the cost. We were told point blank we were not allowed to be gone over one day.
Either way, we finagled it so our project cohort, the Hippy, is also scheduled for this same class (at the Yankee’s house, Hippy mentioned they had no clue how to even request training and they too used spreadsheets a lot, so I put a bug in the VP’s ear. Sometimes, she is useful).
So we get out from having to deal with the VP for at least one day. For that alone, I guess I don’t really mind if I don’t take a lot away from this class, though I’ve never walked away not learning at least something, even if its small. I’m also curious as to whether the VP just didn’t understand a lot of what was being said and filtered it out. Will be interesting to find out. At least the company will be worth it anyway.
One of my rules of thumb: If I’ve refused invites about 7 times in a row, I HAVE to accept the next one. It’s my hermit prevention methodology. I usually don’t get to 7 unless I’m having a really rough time personally.
So I accepted the invite to the Yankee’s house for the 4th of July. My housewarming gift was a multi-pack of Charmin. Yes, toilet tissue. The amount of time the Yankee spends talking about the inner workings of their digestive system, it was warranted. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one who thought so either since they also also received another multi-pack, Poo-pourri, and a stainless steel aerated plunger.
I was in good company.
I brought onion dip, well because I always bring fucking onion dip. It’s never what anyone expects. It’s easy, and BFG told me to when I was once stumped with what to contribute so some gathering that required something aside from a bag of ice or some fucking potato chips. It’s my go-to if I cannot think of anything and/or I don’t want to spend a lot of time. It goes down like:
- 1 cup mayo
- 1 cup shredded cheddar, sharper the better
- 1/4 cup ground/chopped/smashed walnuts OR almonds.
- 1 red onion, chopped to tiny bits.
- *put in container and smear flat*
- Now, I usually use the microwave to soften it, but mine likes to go nuclear after 52 seconds of tepid so I’ve had to switch to hot water on the outside of the jar. If you used almonds, take strawberry marmelade and glaze the top of the dip with it, in a thin layer. If you used walnuts, use raspberry marmelade. I use the whole damn jar usually.
Didn’t know there was going to be gourmet lessons and shit up in this blog, did you?
I use a food processor when I’m not thinking about the cleaning afterword. I’ve also been known to use a bag and a hammer/rolling pin when I do.
It may sound weird, but try it. Two of my cousins, also siblings, who I’ve never been around while they weren’t fighting/screaming/bashing the shit out fo each other, damn near sat on top of one another and silently devoured a container of this shit.
It’s powerful, people.
With that said, I got to see my homeboy, the Yankee’s (we bonded over turkey ice cream cake and dirty jokes) boyfriend. I also got to meet one of the project department newbies, one I’ve been really impressed with as far as their work performance and their significant (we too bonded over lewd topics and dirty innuendo, in fact I seem to have hit idol status for out-lewding him?), a gal from purchasing that I already was friends with came and brought her mom (I wanted to adopt her too), a guy from the design department I once freaked out by sitting next to him at a company-sponsored holiday function and introducing myself (I also wanted to name him Marcus apparently), and their OCD former neighbor who spent a lot of time listening from the sidelines or navigating the wall.
We talked shop, we made cracks about our various diagnoses: which just in that room alone we had a couple of depressions, one bipolar (Yankee’s bf, ironically), OCD (the neighbor has issues with things that close and lock, he doesn’t trust them), our own special version of Turret’s (as I like to call it), etc. The former neighbor was awesome, but very ackward. He wanted to join but didn’t know how while staying on topic, though I give him massive props for his attempts, but man… he had a sharp wit when Yankee’s BF brought it out of him. It was a blast. I cannot ever make anyone understand the vast comfort I get from exploring so many different personalities. Enjoying our differences because we know its welcome and safe is probably one of the best experiences ever.
The Hippy, the epic newcomer to the project department, and I talked extensively of our own dealings with our company. I have to say her insight into the psyche of many of our co-workers was astounding. Yes, the VP really is operating on feelings of insecurity and is desperately seeking validation. Yes, I do think your boss has to be forced to acknowledge their humanity before interacting with them. Yes, I do think that senior head is big bag of narcissistic, immature dicks. I nodded a lot on her insights. We also covered the perceptions they had about my department. Ironically, it all stemmed from the VP and how she treats people.
Although some were a bit on the polite side, the rest of us dove right into the sexual experiences and innuendo, even I disclosed one of my personal best being when my former spouse was not home. I even made an offhand remark at one point that the Hippy looked like she was glowing and did she get some, to which she responded, “why do you think we were late?” When her significant came back in from chatting with Yankee BF, she grew immediately silent and just blushed all over. It was totes adorbs. I couldn’t resist, I teased them a bit. He seemed to have no issue with this topic, but she was shy while he was there.
It was over a hundred degrees outside and Yankee’s bf was hellbent on grilling. We left him to it. At one point even closing the blinds just to escape the heat coming through the windows. I’ve never gone without at least seeing a few fireworks but somehow this year, we missed it altogether. Maybe I’ll make a small bomb and set it off in my yard when the temperature gets below the crack of hell’s ass again.
Spawn was near silent for most of this, and only nibbled. They’d spent the night with their BFF the night before, gone swimming and failed to reapply sunscreen on their pale ass skin in 100 degree weather. So my kid was also barely able to move and suffering a bit from the burn on their top half.
By the way, whoever said vinegar is good thing to put on a sunburn should be punched in the dick. Don’t do it. Greek yogurt, coconut skin oil, olive oil with tea tree in it, aftersun aloe gel with echinacea, lidocaine but only in the spray (touching too much is bad)… all good. Fucking vinegar, bad! If you want someone to have an hour and half of scream/crying, then by all means go with vinegar.
I had originally thought this might be a really awkward outing, and had a deal with Spawn that they were to feign illness at a certain time. Well, it wasn’t feigned with the burn, but we ended up leaving about two hours or so after our designated time. It was worth it though. Spawn finally piped in their two cents on the way home, they always seem to have a better time than they let on. Those who meet Spawn just think they are the most well-behaved child on the planet. I’m wondering what kind of long con this kid is running to have so many fooled.