I came to the realization today that what I ultimately want to do when I grow up is to have a job that requires little or no human interaction. Like, I could photograph old castles or tag geese or something, anything that doesn�t involve dealing with that loathsome human element. To be fair, I come to that same realization about three months after starting any new job, but the fact remains that today was the day it came upon me again.
See, I�m having a bit of a situation at work. Nothing serious, but there are a couple of people over there who might need to get buried alive in cement. First, let�s talk about Sally. Sally isn�t her real name, of course, because on the off chance that she�s reading this and recognizes the situation, she might use her evil powers to turn me to stone. Sally doesn�t actually work in my office, but really in our branch office on the east coast. I�m not terribly fond of Sally.
Let me tell you why. First, let me point out that it was Sally who F�d up that huge project from the other week -- you know, the one where I broke my spine in six places trying to piece things together, and then she totally disregarded all the information I sent over and proceeded to tell everyone who was in charge of anything that I was a big slacker who wasn�t pulling my weight -- and she�s now added Lying Through Her Big Fat Teeth to the already extensive list of reasons she needs to get zapped with a taser.
We were supposed to have this conference with a client on Monday. Sally called me in the afternoon to make sure I had the phone number of said client. I opened my address book and lo, there was a number. I read the number aloud to Sally, asked her if it was the number I needed, and she confirmed. End transmission. That evening, when Sophie called the number, it turned out to be disconnected. This is evidently when Sally went on a tirade to my boss about how she �read the number out to [me] three times to make sure [I] had it right�, and I had obviously managed to fuck something else up, despite all her best efforts to keep me in line.
Okay, so not only is that a total lie, but it�s like, why did she have to go and say it in such a way as to make me look as bad as possible? Wouldn�t the truth have sufficed? We both had the wrong number in our address books. Simple, direct, and at least 70% less accusatory than her version (which, it should be pointed out one more time, was a TOTAL LIE). In the end, the point proved to be moot, as it turned out I did have the right number, but the client had moved without bothering to share her new info with us. So there, Sally; suck on that.
I have made sure that Sophie is entirely aware of my feelings about Sally. I forward along every nasty email I get, and fill Sophie in on each condescending voicemail message Sally leaves to berate me for not doing someone else�s work. I�ve also been quite candid about my feelings towards Jean-zilla, The Client From Hell.
If Sally is frustrating, irritable, and condescending, Jean-zilla is confounding, irrational, and passive-aggressive. Every single issue that comes up (and a lot of them do), she reacts to in exactly the same way; she becomes immediately suspicious and censuring, positive that we�ve all fucked up again, and she�s going to have to fix it like usual. Of course, nine times out of ten it�s something completely benign that turns out (after I go on an all-day wild goose chase at her behest) to not be a fuck-up at all, but rather a communication that mysteriously broke down at her end, though clearly not through any fault of her own.
And honestly, I wouldn�t even mind these extreme reactions of hers if she would just fucking learn from them, but she won�t! Like, after I�ve made the same bad call about three or four times, I usually start to realize that maybe I�m just wrong and need to adjust my attitude. Not so, Jean-zilla. Every day I go in to work, I do so with the knowledge that I will have yet another email in my inbox containing some overblown complaint, and I�ll have to spend the rest of the day tracking down all the evidence that proves we�re not at fault.
Oh well. At least my job is consistent.
Someone Got Here By Searching For: birdcrap on the car And: diane lane on good morning america I�m Watching: Friends and all that shit. I Went and Saw: Underworld tonight, and it was much more entertaining than the craptacular Cold Creek Manor.