Days In The Life

recent entry
older entries
recommend
guestbook
contact
profile

host design

I Read These: loriville
trancejen
la-the-sage
Ladyloo
pandionna
chelonia
radiogurl
marn
wistful-blue
lorster

Who ARE these people?

2002-02-06 - 12:15 p.m.
The week continues.....

OK. Back to insane. Can't deal today. Seems to be an alternating thing.

Doesn't help that staph meeting begins the day. Almost two hours of nattering and blathering and inane chatter. I have shit to do, people! I don't want to sit here for a post-mortem of the stupid event that took place friday.

Then I got an email from the boss, in which he expresses a desire for people to be here to babysit the automation AGAIN at seven this saturday. Yeah. I'm really up for that. How about having the people who WEREN'T here this past weekend?

I'm sorry. I'm feeling fried and underappreciated. SOMEONE ELSE CAN DO THIS stuff. I'm not some kind of automation savant, here. I figured it all out on my own, with some help from the engineer. At least other people have me to tell them how the damn thing works.

And THEN....I get a voice mail...."Hello (colz), I just wanted to tell you how much I appreciate you on in the mornings. But I have a couple of issues I want to bring up with you. First of all, when you read the gold prices...." I hung up on the voice mail at this point. Jesus Hieronymous Christ in glitter shoes. He can fucking listen SOOOOOO carefully that he can quibble with the goddamn gold prices, but he doesn't even have a fucking clue who he's listening to. Bite. My. Ass. I forwarded the voice mail to the morning person, and dammit, I'm pissed. I'm a little raw right now, and I will be DAMNED if I have to listen to criticism that's not even MINE.

I never wanted a high powered career. I never wanted to be important, or indispensible. I just wanted to be a worker bee, doing my job, but not having to fucking carry it around with me every minute of every day. And here I am. Ready to hop out of bed at 11 last night because I heard a glitch in automation. In here on the weekends. I want to go home and BE HOME, and NOT worry about this place. But no one else seems to be. Can't even reach the ops director when he's not here. The Diva wouldn't have a CLUE what to do, except act self important.

I hate this all right now. I really, really do. All it's doing is turning me into a mean, sour, hateful person.

0 comments so far
Previous - Next
Last 5 entries:

If you're interested.....-2006-11-19

Four years ago.....-2006-09-28

Quick update-2006-09-09

This will be crabby-2006-08-20

collapalooza 2006-2006-08-06

a bug::design
Who Links Here