Archive for the 'work' Category

Well, I got partially laid off

That’s right, I am going to be half laid off in two weeks. Which means I have two weeks to find either another part time job, or I need to find a full time job.
At first I wanted to puke, now I think it might be a really good opportunity to pursue something else. Though I might have an interview with another design firm. Which would probably be the same. But I will hopefully find something with a boss that’s a little less anal. That would be nice.
How are all of you? I’m sorry I’m not back to 100% blogging, but the stress of all of this layoff stuff has made my stomach and digestive system a war-zone, and indigestion and bad poops don’t make me want to blog! Wait, poop sort of does, but I don’t really want you to know the consistency of my poop, and I doubt you want to know that much about my life!
I’ve got a few prospects though, so I’m excited, one of which is an animal shelter. Don’t worry, it’s not the one that jerked me around last year. Oh brother, thank goodness it’s not that one.
Though I will say that one nonprofit called me “overqualified.” But they still want to interview me, which is good.
I still feel pretty sick about all of this. It’s a tough thing, a layoff, and I’m not even fully laid off. However, I was told I am the least valuable because I don’t bring in any billable time, which is pretty insulting. Yes, I love being the office bitch, can I please do the dishes every week?! AWESOME.
Hopefully I get to do something more meaningful, and hopefully someone wants to pay me full time for it.
I hope none of you have been laid off. God it’s so awful. Even Steve got laid off. These are some seriously rough times dudes.

80% Sure it’s a Woman

I can’t figure out if it was the constant waking up last night, or the dogs standing on my hair this morning that gave me this slow burn of a headache. Outrageous! Oh well, I’ve taken two of those fast-acting Tylenol, oh right right, “Rapid Release,” which almost rapidly-released in my mouth because I didn’t swallow them right away. Apparently too much Advil will kill you or something, so now I’m onto Tylenol. Wait, I bet it’s just because I cancelled my chiro this week. The Dr. is somehow killing me using his magical chiro telepathy. What a goon!
Also, I forgot to water the plants at work this week on Monday, so I hauled ass to the bathroom to fill the watering can and when I opened the door I got slapped in the face with a burst of terrible, evil post-poop smell. I hate smelling anyone’s old poop smell, especially when you can tell by the smell that it was a really awful poop. I don’t know how I can tell, I just can. It is my gift. It is my curse. I guess if you’re going to have a terrible poop, it’s going to be first thing, but it seems like every time I go into that bathroom right when I get to work, someone has had an awful poop. I should leave a note explaining,

“To the person having terrible shits in this bathroom in the morning:

Let’s talk about your diet. This isn’t normal.

Regards,

Doozy”

But you know what? I don’t think I want to know who it is. Would it make it better? I am 80% sure it’s a woman, unless some man is just going to the larger ladie’s bathroom to take a dump. Which, I happen to think is 20% likely.

I’ll catch you one day, mystery pooper.

Mad about Desk Jobs

It might just be me, but I find that I feel like I’m wasting a lot of time, or rather wasting away when I have to sit at a desk all day. It’s not like I’m not getting things done while I’m at my desk, I guess my mind just gets a little uptight and anxious when I have to sit all day. Which just happens to be 5 days a week.
There are really pros and cons to both customer service jobs and desk jobs, and I just think it’s the individual that decides which is more interesting for them. Not that we’re all working in the industry that we’d like to be anyhow, but I think we all know which we prefer.
Though I will say that with so many pros and cons to each side of the coin, it’s sort of hard for me to say which I prefer. I miss working in customer service because as much as there are terrible, TERRIBLE customers out there, at least I was DOING something all day. Except the slow periods. That shit was the WORST.
And then there are the pros of office work. I get to dress nicely, I get my own computer, I have instant access to the internet, and I don’t have to deal with those shitty customers.
But I think it’s maybe the solitude that I dislike. Not that I am really alone. I guess it’s more being alone in a room full of other people. It sort of feels unnatural. Like when you’re in junior high on a date and you think you’re supposed to hold hands but you’re so nervous your hands get all cold and sweaty, and then you just end up going the entire date without touching. Oh how I don’t miss those days! But then again, no one should go on a date in jr high. Unless you want to practice failing at a lame relationship. Which I did!
I guess it could also be the type of office job you have. I tend not to produce anything tangible, so I never see my work, which makes me feel like I am not contributing, when really, I look after the whole office, so that’s a lot of work.
The fear for me comes when I think that I’ll end up at a desk the rest of my life and it will never amount to anything substantial in society. But is that really what it’s going to take to make me happy? I don’t know. I know I’ve had some really rewarding days in nonprofit organizations, but I’ve also learned a lot about graphic design. Enough to know that I likely should have gone to school for it, but would I really want to step back into school now and get yet another degree? Not really. A Masters? Eh. Not unless it was somehow in something I could really call my own, because clearly they don’t offer Masters in nonprofit.
It seems like the first step is always the most difficult one to make.

The Politics of a Cold

So I’ve been laid out all week with some sort of a terrible cold.  Is ‘exploding ass’ and ‘projectile vomiting’ part of a cold, usually?  It’s like two terribly different, terribly TERRIBLE illnesses just sort of mashed up together in some sort of illness casserole and I ate it up like it was a delicious bowl of jello.  Actually, speaking of Jello, I ought to be eating some of that shit because I can’t seem to eat anything else without it running in one direction or the other to get out of my body!

My biggest meal in the past week has been the burrito I consumed after a lot of careful thought today at lunch.  Why the careful thought, you ask?  Because I am sure it’s going to spray it’s way out of me later today.  I figure it’s better to at least try and absorb some sort of nutrients from a food I like instead of eating chicken noodle soup at every meal.  Though I am pretty sure that Lipton’s chicken noodle soup contains absolutely nothing that resembles chicken.  I mean, it’s neon green for Pete’s sake!  I know this because I spilt some on my carpet earlier in the week and spent 20 minutes Bissel-ing the hell out of the rug to get the radioactive soup stain out of my life.  It probably only took 20 minutes because I was keeled over weakly rubbing the scrubber back and forth and a very slow pace.

It took me a good 5 days before I actually stopped feeling guilty about being sick and actually laid down for the whole day.  I didn’t try to tidy.  I didn’t even try to watch a full episode of one of the 150 court TV shows that seem to be on ALL. DAY. LONG.  How glorious it was to just sleep all day.  I wish I had a week off to do that without all the coughing and the sore throat!  I guess that’s why they call it being sick and not, say, a vacation!  Yeah, you can have 3 days off, but you’re going to have to pay with some sort of stomach/head infection combo!  TAKE THAT!

My poor abdomen feels like a wet balloon filled with half-eaten ribs.  I always forget about this part of being sick.  Normally I can avoid it with cough drops, but I’ve been advised to avoid any medicine other than vitamin C, as everything else will make me yak.  I guess I should get in the tub or something?  Does humidity help a cough?  Or does it make it worse?  Perhaps I ought to just stand outside in some of this glorious Vancouver rain and just soak it in.

It really takes coming to work to realize that you shouldn’t have come to work.

There’s nothing quite like working on a Sunday

Am I right?!

It’s eerily quiet here at work, only because I am the only one here. It’s nice though, because I was actually able to set up a whole new computer for a co-worker without having ten other people ask me to fix something on their computer. I’m pretty proud of the fact that I am the only one here that knows anything about computers, even if that means I constantly get interrupted to fix something. I feel like I am the Master of the Network! ALL MUST PAY HOMAGE TO THE MASTER OF THE NETWORK!

WHAT’S THAT? YOU CANNOT GET INTO YOUR EMAIL??? MASTER OF THE NETWORK WILL HELP YOU!!! HAZAAA!!!!!

Luckily, this will earn me Monday off, and I love having a weekday off, so it’s win win. I like being home when everyone else is at work, because then I can go anywhere I like without the INSANE crowds. Delightful.

I went to a party last night that someone attended posing as “Dancing Bear.” Literally they got dressed up in a suit, bear paws, and a bear head, and talked in a bear voice, and danced all evening for us. I never even saw their face, it was the weirdest, and yet, most awesome thing I’ve ever seen.

Holy crap someone’s gonna get shanked.

Hi, this is pretty much where I’m at right now:

I don’t think I could have gotten more stressed out than I became this morning. Now, don’t get me wrong, I like my job a lot, but when all the shit hits the fan at the same time, I seriously want to just scream and go on a punching rampage.

Most of this stress was caused by computers. Computers that I know how to use, and apparently NO ONE ELSE does. For instance, how to properly check your email. Or make a label for an envelope, or where there might be a desk in the building with a free computer and phone.

I also pretty much gave myself a pretty hefty burn on my middle finger from trying to get the shredded shards of an envelope out of a printer. Note to everyone: DO NOT TOUCH ANYTHING INSIDE A PRINTER. They heat that shit to like 300 degrees. I am not kidding you. I touched my finger to what I thought was the ink cartridge, and instead got a SEERING HOT blast of pain, which made me run to the kitchen to slam my finger into some cold water.

Then I get the joy of having this dude who is like death manifested into life come in to ask me about some documents for about 30 minutes.

Then enter everyone here coming into my office saying “MY ______ DOESN’T WORK, WAAAAAHHHHH!”

Oh man, I just want to slip into a nice coma right now.

Thank goodness I booked myself a nice, long weekend.

Are You KIDDING Me?

Well, I finally got the opportunity to talk to my boss, which was about as easy as attempting to travel to see the Wizard when you’re in completely ridiculous ruby slippers. I should have just walked into her office, clicked my heels, and chanted that there was indeed, no place like home.

We sat down and she talked about receiving my notice and respecting it, but then things took an unexpected turn. She actually looked like she was going to cry. Now, slap me if I’m crazy, but I figured I’d get to see some kind of joyous dance ending in the splits. Luckily I managed to keep my jaw from hitting the floor after seeing her distress at my departure. I can tell you that out of all the confusing and frustrating times at this job, that the half hour I spent talking to her about my departure was the most ridiculous.

She talked about how good I was doing, how proud she was of me, and how she would like to write me a reference letter and help me get a new job.

Uhhhhh….I’m sorry, did I walk into the right office here? Am I dreaming? Come on, there’s got to be a hidden camera somewhere in here.

She even offered to try and help me get a job with the same org. in Vancouver after I told her I was moving. I believe that I had somehow stepped into an alternate reality at that point. I could have pooped myself out of shock.

Then she went into how bad she felt about the age difference between me and the other women here, and how that must have been tough for me.

Naaaah, I love having my arm halfway down into a huge bag of potato chips while everyone else discusses the hidden fats in the crackers they bought. I really do.

Maybe my boss fell off the roof of the shelter and forgot that she was constantly ON MY CASE and criticized me on a regular basis. Maybe she fell on a pile of old rainbows and lollipops and now rides a unicorn to work.

She apologized for being hard on me, and also stated that the job had too many broad expectations, but that she was really happy to have had me in the job.

At this point I pretty much wanted to walk out and tell her to call me when my real boss came back into work.

Either way I guess I have a lead for a job at the same org in Vancouver if I want it, and a letter of recommendation. It’ll probably blow up into fairy dust when I walk out of the building anyway.


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