Wednesday, September 06, 2006

I'm tired

and I'm bitchy.

I'm in "How long do I have to do this before I can put my house on the market and go someplace quiet and work in a bakery or something?" mode.

I am finally "making good money" (by Florida standards) but it comes with a price, like 10 hour work days and and endless stream of problems - oh, wait, that's not corporatespeak, is it? ISSUES that need my attention.

Dispatch from Cupcake World: Boss asked me to look at a particular issue with a particular project on a particular report, because we'd already determined that there was an issue and that the report did not address it. So I'm sitting in my office killing valuable brain cells I'd rather save for my old age, trying to figure out why the report bears no resemblance to reality, and seeing issues that I hadn't even thought of yet, and in comes the Cupcake who normally "prepares" the report (by this we mean she performs the data entry after somebody else apparently pulls numbers out of his ass, but she feels territorial about it.) I have no idea how she gathers the data beyond the aforementioned assformation gathering, or if anybody actually really reads the damn thing. I have been blissfully sheltered from these issues, because it was never in my scope of work before and now that it is. I'm baffled. But anyway.

Cupcake inquired as to WHY I was working on HER report? (Her report? She types it, it's not her report.) I gave her the totally obvious and honest answer: Because the Boss Told Me To. I answer to the owner of the company, the president, the COO, the CFO, THREE division presidents, a minivan load of VPs and the VP I actually report to, not to mention the random people who think they are important and talk to me like I work for them, too. I was asked to look at a particular issue and that's what I'm doing. Trust me Cupcake, I do not need more work and I don't want yours. My worst nightmare is that someone will decide I need to take over this report. I want to go train dogs, take pictures, design snarky greeting cards, or work in a bakery. I do not want your goddamn report.

Welcome to Corporate Life. Office Space is a documentary.

I can't even find time to get Murphy to the groomer, and he looks like Cousin It and smells like ass.

3 comments:

KatyaR said...

I'm right there with you, Catherine! I'm so tired of getting up every day to go to a job that doesn't do anything for me except put money in the bank (not that that's a bad thing, mind you). I wish I could find a 32-hour-a-week job that paid the same hourly wage as what I make now, but if I take a job that cuts my hours down to 32, I'd have to take an almost 40% drop in salary, and I can't live on that, even as "meagerly" as I live (not many bills, old car, apartment, lots of fiber--you understand). I'm ready to slow down, and the idea that I'll be working until I die just doesn't really excite me very much.

Hang in there--it can't always be like this, can it?

KnitNana said...

Is there a full moon today? DAMN this stuff is demoralizing and exhausting.
I can sympathize...Cupcakes are rampant. I have one, too - territorial little twit: One point of view, small minded, blinders on, and the rest of the world (in her opinion) is just wrong and stupid no matter what we do (of course SHE's not!).
(sigh)

Auntie M said...

Poor Murphy...I'm sure he's enjoying the way he smells right now. He works so hard on that scent!

I say you put tacks in Cupcakes chair. B>