Happy Happy because it's Friday, and the week ended on some fairly up notes, with things moving forward and involvement in issues that take actual problem solving skills and decision-making. I like my job much more when I'm involved, instead of the legal Maytag repairperson who must wait until someone has some shittyboringlegalthing to dump on my desk. Give me real operational work. Please.
There was a charming passive-aggressive confrontation with the meaner of the two Buffies to start my day - I'm not sure how to describe it in blogworthy terms. One of my job functions involves following up on the status of certain things. This is not her job. But she is a power-crazy little creature, so when questions come to her about which she knows little, she answers them instead of referring them to me. All in the name of being "responsive," you know. Then, when the people getting the bad info are thoroughly confused and exasperated and calling her every day, and God knows how long THIS has gone on before I found out, she tells me in haughty terms and in email copied to all our bosses, including our new boss, that this is my fault for not communicating with them. Yes, they called her and she didn't pass the call to me, and didn't even tell me that they called or that this was an issue, but it's my fault for not somehow sensing this and responding to questions I don't even know are being asked. Is she really serious?
So in turn I responded, also cc-ing our bosses, that if she gets calls on this issue in the future please pass them to me and I will be happy to give the up to date information. Apparently this was vewwwy, vewwwy mean of me, because she threw a fit and tears were shed. Let's review -she's putting herself between other staff people and me and then telling me how to communicate with them, and SHE is the wronged party? Jesus. Polite, terse emails from me. Longer self-righteous "I'm just doing the right thing!" emails from her. I emailed all the managers and gave them my extension, told them I was handling these things and told them to just call me. It's not a big issue, and now that I know about this issue I can address it. But I'm too old and fed up for this crap. What makes people act like this?
I had a very pleasant conversation with my mother, I can't get over how much LESS dithery and confused and "I don't know!" she is now. I feared/expected her to melt down, instead she is just dealing with life and she's as sharp as a damn tack and seems to be getting sharper every day - not surprising, since her 93 year old aunt could still give someone a thorough verbal ass-whuppin' without pausing as she crochets some ornate masterpiece. These little bitty Irish women are not to be trifled with. You should know to be scared when they're past 80 and their hair is still mostly brown and there is no hair color involved. I think the 93 year old might finally have white hair by now. They're scary little things, I tell you.
We had a good conversation about getting rid of stuff and deciding where to live next - there is no rush on this and I haven't raised the issue of moving anywhere yet. I don't want to live with her, but I'd be happy to have her live in a nice little apartment nearby. She's doing fine, I have things to deal with before I am ready to move myself, it'll sort itself out. I'm vastly, madly relieved about this turn of events.
I have a full weekend, but I'll try to squeeze in some pictures of the shawl(s) in progress, and the obligatory dogs doing cute things.