WORK

The background you see is symbolic of my life rushing past me as I toil away my youth in meaningless jobs.

Seeing as I have managed to author everything you see before you during the actual work day, I thought a page devoted to the place I park my ass for 8 hours a day would be apt.

Want to soil your bloomers and frighten those around you with peels of hysterical laughter? This is a link to a really funny temp-from-hell tale.

Your job suck?  Let's compare. E-mail me  your tales of woe.

updated work diary. . .

Untangling the Tandy:  Conversations with Cooter

So here I am at work.  I work at an architecture firm as an Administrative Assistant.  The worst part about it, besides the fact that I sit here all day and don't do anything, is that I have to work with a complete nutjob,  which is sometimes stressful.  Crazy Girl, as I like to call her, enjoys doing things to make my workday as difficult as possible.  But I won't get into that now.  The head of the company is completely cocky and extrememly difficult, and his second in command is an aging senior-management-type who bears resemblance to a bulldog.  May 4 I didn't want this to become a cyber-diary, as I think usually they're pretty damned boring, but I guess if I can manage to limit myself to a few pithy remarks, it'll be okay.

1. I have to work with a crazy girl.  CG suffers terrible mood swings, and is the most vindictive, spiteful, lousy excuse for a person that I've ever met.  Today she's not answering the phone (a shared duty) I assume because she thinks she's moved in the company (she's a soon-to-be library assistant, rather than the receptionist she is now).  Usual antics include not speaking to me for days (punishment? hardly.), pretending to talk about me while I'm sitting here, and alternately refusing to answer the phone and jumping on it the first moment it twitches with a potential ring.  2. I have to take other people's disgusting food-encrusted dishes out of the sink and put them into the dishwasher, wipe off the spilled coffee on the countertops. . .   and yeah, I realize some people have to do this as an actual job, but I wasn't hired to be a dishwasher and I think it sucks that a bunch of grown-ups aren't responsible enough to take care of their own messes.

Hell, those remarks were so damned pithy that they end there, but you can click here for an updated diary.

BACK, BACk, BAck IT UP.