Well, it�s another exciting Friday, ladies and gentlemen. Another slam-bang start to the end of one hellishly long (four-day) week. Does anybody else feel like this week went by way too slowly? It felt like I was having a root canal, and my dentist just decided to take his time about it. And then, every so often, he went, "Oopsy! Hold on, I think I can fix that�" Not an encouraging week, to be sure.
Today began with our now-weekly Friday morning meeting with Larry, Moe, and Circe from the damnable East Coast office. Unfortunately, Sophie was not there to protect us this morning, and we were forced to stick our heads in between the proverbial jaws of the metaphorical lion all by ourselves. I mean, it�s not like Sally, Anna, or Circe are liable to take advantage of us when our supervisor isn�t around to say things like, "That�s not our responsibility, you need to take care of it yourselves," except, oh, wait, THEY TOTALLY ARE. And they totally did. And I totally hate them.
Hate. Them. A lot.
To wit: When Anna isn�t actively worshipping her dark master, Beelzebub, she is apparently running all of her messages through a Cuisinart, so fucking mixed are they. She then forwards her spectacularly unclear instructions over to me, along with a little note telling me to "call if [I] don�t understand the memo"�and then when I call, she doesn�t answer and never responds, and so I stumble blindly through the work before me (spreading out in all directions like the bloody Sahara), send it back all, "I hope I did this right, because you were NO HELP AT ALL," and then, a week later, receive an e-mail, Cc:-ed to the entire company, that reads, "I�m looking over this work, and almost NONE of my indicated notes were followed!" So of course I write back, saying, "Well, I would have followed your instructions to the letter, but I really didn�t feel like �eating the liver of a newborn babe� or �bathing in the blood of a virgin�, so I hope you understand." Well, maybe I didn�t write that, exactly, but you get the point.
Then there�s Circe, who is a one-woman army of saccharin artifice and cordial condemnation ("Well, we don�t want to point fingers, Anna, so let�s not get into it; just send Dr. No a list of the changes he didn�t take care of, and we�ll call it a day."), like, I MADE all the CHANGES, you hateful yatch! If you didn�t write everything down, THAT�S NOT MY PROBLEM!!! Of course she likes to serve things up with a side of patronizing condescension that inevitably entails more work for me ("Dr. No, from now on, how about you send us an e-mail every time you get notes, just to make sure that we�re all on the same page?"). Oh, okay. Sure, Circe. By the way, could you explain to me what a "page" is again?
For last, I saved my least favorite of the three: Sally. Anna�s persistence is obnoxious, yes, and the daily glut of emails is consternating; but Sally is the girl who asks you, in private, for a favor, and then publicly decries you when you don�t finish her work by her deadline. Sally is the girl who you don�t realize needed something from you until she announces in a public forum that you never gave it to her. Sally is the girl who ignores messages and reports you send her, and then, two months down the line, after you�ve recycled all the evidence, goes behind your back and tells your boss that you never did the work, and that her accounts are suffering because of it. Sure, you can dredge up whatever evidence remains, but the damage is already done. In short, Sally is the most dangerous.
That, ladies and gents, is the company I keep. Perhaps I should get a job wrangling pit vipers. Or maybe that would be redundant.
Someone Got Here By Searching For: anaphylactic shock "desert flower" And: Suddenly, there�s an abundance of people finding this site by searching for some variation on "MTV True Life: I Have an Eating Disorder", which was�ew. I�m Watching: Tru Calling, which continues to astound with its sheer un-cancelledness. And: More of Alias�s second season. Woohoo!