I work in a welding shop that was turned into a big office. “By turned into”, I mean we have desks in there.
It is still VERY hot here in prison-ville, so I get to work early, roll up the big outside doors and start the swamp coolers.
Today, when I rolled up the doors, there were six, un-dumped dumpers stilling right outside, along with the army of mice and air support from the flies. There were so many flies, you couldn;t talk, because you’d get a bug in your mouth. The lids on cold cups didn’t help to keep them out either.
I saw the bug man and he said he didn;t have any fly strips–if I had a problem with the flies, I should bring in my own. About the mice? Send in a work order!
So I asked the charactericitally cranky OA if she would send in a work order for the mice and she told me to do it myself..which I would if I could. I’m not authorized nor do I have internet. Her reply? “Tough, then!”
I had something like 9,000 copies to run…but my copier was out of toner. The one in the mailroom was broken. So I went to the same cranky OA to see if she had any. Nope. Could she order some? ” Nope, order it yourself!” I never order office supplies. She orders them and keeps them locked up. I’m not even AUTHORIZED to order them.
So I go into the office to use that copier to run my 9,000 copies. While I’m at it, I’m shredding confidential materials (I have about a banker’s box a week to shred and I always use the shredder in the office.
She starts to holler at me “Get off my shredder! Get off my copier!!”
I have been hollered at enough today. I have work that has to get done. The end.
I go talk to my supervisor….he’ll go talk to her later. (Will never happen).
I finally get my copies made and I’m stuffing envelopes to go out to my students. I have 120 of them and they all need a different set of lessons. Because of custody, I can’t sent them workbooks or text books, so I have to make all this stuff up, type it, proof it, make an answer key and send it off. I might get it back and I might not.
At any rate, I’m send out 3 or 4 lessons to each student and my principal comes up with a phone number on a piece of paper…does that number look familiar to me?
I pull my pager out of my pocket. Nope, that’s not my number and the battery is dead.
Well, it’s the number she had and I have to answer my pager….it is for my safety and security. (That is what they always say around here. Anything they want you to do that you DON’T want to do is always for my benefit. So far, I don’t believe them.
Go over to Procurement and they will give me a battery.
Well, no they won’t. What they will do is give me a bad time and I have had my fill of bad times today already.
Why don’t I have extra batteries? (She is hot and tired and cranky, too.) Because they were confiscated at the gate when they searched my handbag. I wrote you a note.
She vaguely remembers READING that note. But I have to answer my pager. She HAS to be able to contact me. (Forget the I was 10 feet away from her OFFICE all day and she could have hollered at me.
And if my safety and security is so all fired important, I should have a cell phone so I could call HER, just in case I was being murdered and stuffed into a dumpster.
I called Ben and he asked me if I had anything to eat, since I sounded so very cranky?
Maybe I should drink some orange juice? (I always had my kids drink orange juice when they were cranky because it is the perfect drink–hydrates you, tastes good, usually cold and will pop up your sugar levels, which is what makes you cranky in the first place).
Maybe I needed a nap?
And so far IN MY LIFE, that was my very worst day.
And it was hot, I had on ugly shoes and I hated my hair, too.