work

Why don’t you know?!?!

I was asked to find out how to use a certain function on one of our office multifunction copiers.  Since we have a copy center that is responsible for said machine, I thought that they would be the best source of information.  WRONG!

I approached them and explained what I wanted to the first gentleman.  He studied me with a quizzical look upon his face and then told me to "Wait one minee" while his co-worker arrived to help me.  A pleasant "how can I help you" later and I've re-explained what it is that I need.  I received yet another confused look.  I thought that maybe I wasn't properly explaining myself and so I tried a different explanation.  Nope, no dice. Mind you, these people work for the freaking copy center.  They are in charge of every printer in the building (almost)!  The ones that they are in charge of are all the same brand and you don't know how to make them work?!?!

His resolution: "There's a manual located behind the machine" and he was kind enough to show me where it would be on my machine by pulling one out from the machine closest to him.

GIVE. ME. A. BREAK!!!

My resolution: Fiddle around with the settings until I figure it out.  Yeah, I figured it out.  I pwn IKON and CANON!  HA!

Read and post comments | Send to a friend

Life: You must be this tall to ride.

Some days are spent in an eternal click-clacking climb up the first hill.  Some days are a hands-up, no seat belt freefall down the biggest slope on the ride.

Things have been so random lately.  Not necessarily random bad, just random.

School started.  Lovey's teacher is normal.  Mine is, well, not.  I feel bad for people in the class who weren't able to attend the live chat because if they just go by what the assignment says, they'll be lucky to sqeak by with a C.  She wants so much more than it says.  I'll just be fortunate that I was able to attend.

Kiddo's bus driver got lost yesterday.  They apparently have a problem hiring and keeping drivers.  The driver got mad at the kids for, I guess being kids, and called the cops.  Kiddo watched two of her FEMALE friends (no more than 14 years old, good students, good kids in general) get HANDCUFFED and put in the police car and driven away.  Is it just me or is this ridiculous?  Those were city cops, by the way.  A "school police" officer was there also.  He was still there when I arrived at 5:20 when Kiddo is usually at home no later than 4:45.  I politely asked him what I needed to do to get my child out of this situation.  His brilliant response complete with stupid facial expression? "Uh, tell her to get off the bus."  Thank you!  My tax dollars hard at work.  By the way, school lets out at 3:40 so nearly two hours of drama and trauma.

Things are not all bad.  I still have a job, albeit one that I do not love.  I cannot even go into what transpired today alone to make me feel this way, but suffice it to say that I have to deal with things that are ridiculous.

I still got paid last Friday.  I will still (hopefully) receive a bonus this Friday.  I will still receive my tax-free loan repayment from Uncle Sam before the middle of next week.

My mother called me and in her random way tells me the story of how her husband's great-grandfather used to be the president of the country he is from (not this one, lol).  He had land that the government seized and built a rather large facility on.  There seems to be some sort of settlement for the family to the tune of a large chunk of change.  I don't know why she is telling me this.  I refuse to get my hopes up that I will finally "hit the lottery" and be relieved of working because I have to and be allowed to work if, when, and where I want to.

The Florida lottery is up to 20 million dollars.  Yes, I will blow 10 dollars that could be used for better good and buy tickets.

(Sorry guys) I have an appointment with my GYN today.  I'm hoping he can explain a few things like why my last few periods have been excrutiating when I've never had a problem with them before, why I wake up in the middle of the night drenched in sweat when the air is at 64 and I'm naked, and why I have a declining drive.  Perimenopause anyone?  Wonderful, no?  I'm only 34 dammit.

Speaking of getting old, I was listening to Sirius and they were playing Sweet Child O' Mine (Gunners).  I looked at the station and it was Classic Rewind.  CLASSIC REWIND!  After I was insulted, I realized that the song is nearly 20 years old.  How's that for a slap in the face?

Still, with all this, I love my life.  I love that I have family who cares.  My extended family cares (Lovey's family).  I love that my brother is all kinds of wacky but he's true to himself and to BMX racing.  I love that I have a job that pays me a stupid amount of money even though I put up with some dumb shit.  I love that I have the opportunity to go back to school and get a degree in something that actually interests me.  I love that our family trio has our health.  I love that we have a roof over our heads, even if it's in a city that I can't stand.

I love that you will listen to this and not tell me how silly I am.

Read and post comments

INGRATE!

I'm sitting here at my desk at work and I receive an email from someone here in the company that I don't recognize.  It was obviously sent to many people.  The email went something like this:

Your mission, should you choose to accept, is to report to the 5th floor to pick up a package.  We cannot tell you what is in the package, you must pick it up yourself to find out.  The codeword is "Service Award".

I was slightly confused by this little note.  Not only by its level of vagueness, but by the fact that today, or this month, or even this year is nothing special.  I started through a temp agency on 1/4/06 and was hired on permanently on 4/13/06.  Seeing as how I just can't stand to not know things, I chose to accept the mission.

I went into stealth mode and took the silent (but deadly) route to the 5th floor.  I dodged cleaning crew to get there, but I made it.  Under the cover of florescent lights, I gave the codeword and received my package.  I left the dungeon of doom to return to the sanctuary that is my desk.  I now have in my hands two things: a small, flat, white container approximate 5" by 6" and a slightly larger black container measuring 7" by 4" by 5".  I decide that good things come in small packages (quite like myself) and open the white container first.  It is a card.  I open it and to my surprise it reads like this:

Dear MiamiShyner,

Warmest congratulations on your 1st year Anniversary with Company XYZ!  Your dedication and commitment are an important part of our success.

We wish you health, happiness and continued success in the years to come!

XYZ Corporation – 2007

Right about now, you may be thinking the same thing that I was thinking as I read those words: Did I forget how to do math?  I mean, I know that I'm not a "degreed professional" but I can still do the easy stuff like add.

The second container had a one year anniversary pin and a lovely pen set.  Super!  Man I am one ungrateful bitch.

Read and post comments

Evaluate This!

If you're a slave to corporate America, you know that it's just about that time of year for reviews and (hopefully) raises.  While perusing the net this morning, I found this well-crafted letter that I'm sure many people would just LOVE to give to their bosses.  Enjoy! (This letter and other gems can be found here.

This Year I'm Mailing in My Performance Review, Literally

 

Dear Boss,

 

Every year we perform the same ritual of sitting down face-to-face and review my performance in the year gone by, pretending that you care about my personal development, me pretending that I give a shit about this company.  This year, I'm taking a different approach, which I have neatly outlined below to highlight the differences between this year and years passed.

 

–      My Goals – Some years you tell me that while I met my personal goals, the organization did not, so unfortunately there will be no bonus.  Other years, you tell me that while I was eligible for a bonus, only a select few high performers will see a bonus and for this year anyway I'm not one of them.  Let's cut to the chase here.  I suck as an employee.  You know it, I know, and HR knows it.  If not for the litigious society that we live in today, you would have fired me long ago.  Luckily for me, I'm black, Jewish, a woman, and handicapped.  That's right, the perfect storm of equal opportunity and affirmative action.  So how about instead of apologizing to me for not giving me a bonus, I'll agree not to sue you and I'll be on my way?

 

–      My Development – You usually spew some BS about learning other people's roles, or sitting with a senior manager to understand what their day is like.  Let me clue you in to something – I couldn't care less about my own job, much less someone else's, so save the manure for the pig farm.  Aside from that, I was diagnosed as being functionally retarded when I was 10, so forget about development and count your blessings that I'm potty trained.

 

–      Teamwork – Every year you drone on about mission statements and how we all need to help each other out, because there is no "I" in the word "team".  Well guess what? There may not be an "I, but there is certainly an "M" and an "E".  And along those lines, my team can kiss my cellulite-filled handicapped ass.  In case you haven't noticed, work around here is passed around faster than an STD at a frat house.  Between you and me, I don't give two shits about how the work gets done, as long as it doesn't involve me.

 

–      Other Crap – There is some other jargon that you use every year to justify screwing me, and to be quite frank I tend to zone you out during that portion of the review.  Instead, I wonder about things like if you take Viagra, if you know that your daughter is a slut, and what it would be like to get you in a head lock and give you nuggies.

 

In closing, I would like to reiterate that I do in fact hate my job, and my life for that matter, so going forward let's not put a silk hat on this pig of a job and pretend it's a beauty queen.  I hope the business tanks so that I can collect unemployment, and will continue to pray that you fall down a flight of stairs so that I can get some free cake at your get well party.

 

Warmest Regards,

          Milton Waddams

 

Read and post comments

« Previous Page — Next Page »

You Missed

Ramblings

Nothing To See Here

Ramblings

Too Damn Slow

Ramblings

Ghosts (of Days Gone By)

Ramblings

Raunchy Activated