Well, apparently I was functioning as the section switchboard, and it wasn't my overactive imagination. I took just under 400 calls between 8 am and noon before my boss started yelling...and yelling...and the phone kept ringing...and ringing...and ringing.
...after 200 more calls after noon, the boss went apeshit, and decided after much gnashing of the teeth to confront said slug (think of him as the Azikiwe of the agency) . Sir Knight chewed on his hindquarters for a bit, then decided that you can't talk to something with the IQ of a carrot and brought himself back into our office.
This gnawing of the ass and gnashing of the teeth could have been completely avoided, but there are those people in the world who have an answer for everything. Azzie is one such person. Apparently, Sir Knight went into Azzie's office to ask him why we were playing answering service for him, to which Azzie responded (while sitting at his desk phone ironically enough), "Because I transferred 'em to ya." Gee, you think?!? Any monkey knows that answer!
After Sir Knight got done with him, apparently QB got ahold of him, and Azzie got his butt gnawed on-hard. Apparently by a pissed off Queen Bee. Hmm. BZZZ! (At least that's what Ladies' Man reported after a visit to the litter box and running into said carrot...)
...and I no longer am answering the phones, but I think Azzie's bodyguards may be meeting me in the parking lot since some Azzie hiney is still stuck to QB's stinger. BZZZ!
7.31.2006
7.28.2006
Whee-haw! I am NOT alone!
So, we did it!!! Sir Knight and I finished all the grant paperwork 3 days before the deadline. LIW, eat your heart out.
Then Sir Knight did a happy dance because "And hot damn, we did it without her!" I'm not alone in my frustration!
Then Sir Knight did a happy dance because "And hot damn, we did it without her!" I'm not alone in my frustration!
7.27.2006
Bustin' out the abacus
Well, I think Hell just froze over. No really! The other day, LIW decided that I was apparently smarter than your average slug and could handle working on the expense reports. After they have sat on her desk for about three weeks, she decided that they were difficult and she didn't have all the documentation she needed but wasn't sure what. She handed them to me to work on yesterday afternoon. They were all done yesterday afternoon except for one who called me back this morning, which was then finished this morning.
Is there anyone in the world who can really be that inept/careless?
Is there anyone in the world who can really be that inept/careless?
7.26.2006
Vuja de? Nay.
Do you ever get that strange feeling of vuja de? Not déjà vu; vuja de. It's the distinct sense that, somehow, something that just happened has never happened before. Nothing seems familiar. And then suddenly the feeling is gone. Vuja de. ~Carlin
But alas, my friends, this is not vuja de. This is the world's most noted case of déjà vu.
You will remember in numerous posts that my pal, LIW, seems to be conspicuously absent just prior to Big Things Happening in the office. Like the time the grant was late (preceded by a vacation), and the time the conference was to happen and didn't get planned (preceded by an elective surgery), and the list goes on.
Well, to little surprise to yours truly, I find out that (a) we have a grant application due on Monday. So it only follows that (b) LIW will be AWOL tomorrow and Friday. Sir Knight just asked if I knew about it, but negatory, friends. She told no one and never applied for leave. Supposedly taking comp time. Wonderful theory, but HEY! she doesn't have any available. Go figure...we ARE in need of funding since she singlehandedly trashed about $500 million, so it's only fair that she's absent more often than not. Right?
I loathe people who came by the nickname through a true lack of ambition. Damn slugs.
Oh, and as a side note, have I mentioned the HUMMING? Incessant. Out of tune. Coming from the general direction of LIW's office. AAAARGH!
But alas, my friends, this is not vuja de. This is the world's most noted case of déjà vu.
You will remember in numerous posts that my pal, LIW, seems to be conspicuously absent just prior to Big Things Happening in the office. Like the time the grant was late (preceded by a vacation), and the time the conference was to happen and didn't get planned (preceded by an elective surgery), and the list goes on.
Well, to little surprise to yours truly, I find out that (a) we have a grant application due on Monday. So it only follows that (b) LIW will be AWOL tomorrow and Friday. Sir Knight just asked if I knew about it, but negatory, friends. She told no one and never applied for leave. Supposedly taking comp time. Wonderful theory, but HEY! she doesn't have any available. Go figure...we ARE in need of funding since she singlehandedly trashed about $500 million, so it's only fair that she's absent more often than not. Right?
I loathe people who came by the nickname through a true lack of ambition. Damn slugs.
Oh, and as a side note, have I mentioned the HUMMING? Incessant. Out of tune. Coming from the general direction of LIW's office. AAAARGH!
7.25.2006
High-caliber people, these.
No, Dave, I don't mean the kind preceded by a dot.
So you remember the post about the crazy woman who needed help with a mailout?
I just found out that it (a) wasn't a mailout and (b) why she was gone for the day. The job was to stuff 6 pages in portfolios. 40 of them. Wahoo. 30 minutes fo work, tops. But alas, Loony took the day off because (and I'm serious) her friend had a dream that a dead woman wanted them to find her, so they took off to look for the dead lady. Honest to God. She didn't do her work and took off to go find a woman who'd been dead for 11 years. Geesh people.
So you remember the post about the crazy woman who needed help with a mailout?
I just found out that it (a) wasn't a mailout and (b) why she was gone for the day. The job was to stuff 6 pages in portfolios. 40 of them. Wahoo. 30 minutes fo work, tops. But alas, Loony took the day off because (and I'm serious) her friend had a dream that a dead woman wanted them to find her, so they took off to look for the dead lady. Honest to God. She didn't do her work and took off to go find a woman who'd been dead for 11 years. Geesh people.
7.24.2006
To borrow a phrase, SWEET SHIVERING SHIVA!
This CANNOT be happening. I've met idiots, then, apparently, there are idiots. And I work for/with one of the latter category. (Lady-In-Waiting from previous posts for the curious-minded.)
The week before I left for Chicago, I spent a goodly amount of time working on event planning for a smallish conference held last Tuesday and Wednesday. (You know, the small things--location, speakers, travel, etc.--the small things that LIW didn't get around to before she left for a WEEK) Because of the logical way that our blessed agency works, a large portion of that goodly amount of time was spent working on travel claims for the participants.
Let me walk the uninitiated through the process of filing a travel claim:
1. Fill out the claim to the best of your logical ability.
2. Realize that logic has NOTHING what-so-ever to do with it, and rework the claim.
3. Take the claims to the other scullery maid in the office, who is reluctantly in charge of travel, so to obtain her signature.
4. Return to your desk and make changes. Return to Scullery #2.
5. Take the initialed claim to the Queen Bee to initial.
6. Return to your desk and make changes. Return to Queen Bee.
7. Take the doubly-initialed claim to the Guru de Travel to check over (and initial).
8. Return to your desk and make changes. Return to G de T.
9. Receive accepted and initialed travel claims to be signed by the participants of the conference.
10. Return completed forms to G de T to file for payment.
So I spend all day Thursday and Friday doing the claims, moving the conference do to another monumental fsck up (though not the agency's fault), and then redoing the claims. When I leave for Chi-town, they are initialed in triplicate, received and ready to be approved by Herself. Enter LIW.
I put a sticky note on each claim with a list of information I needed to complete each one, since there are significant differences between all 24 of them. LIW takes the claims to the conference to be finally signed, but decides that I don't really need all the information I have requested and tells people to disregard most of the information on the note. THEN she decides that much of the information on the claims is incorrect, and takes it upon herself to not put questions on sticky notes to ask me later, but instead to white out all the information I had painstakingly researched and placed into the form, and put in INCORRECT INFORMATION, that now I have to find some way to fix. Well, auditors frown on white-out on forms that determine lump sums of money, so somehow I have to recreate the signatures of all these people onto forms that had she not screwed with in the first place would already be paid.
These are the forms that, in an ideal world, I would place in her desk chair with a file folder and a note, "You fscked 'em up, you fix 'em." Damn my ethics.
The week before I left for Chicago, I spent a goodly amount of time working on event planning for a smallish conference held last Tuesday and Wednesday. (You know, the small things--location, speakers, travel, etc.--the small things that LIW didn't get around to before she left for a WEEK) Because of the logical way that our blessed agency works, a large portion of that goodly amount of time was spent working on travel claims for the participants.
Let me walk the uninitiated through the process of filing a travel claim:
1. Fill out the claim to the best of your logical ability.
2. Realize that logic has NOTHING what-so-ever to do with it, and rework the claim.
3. Take the claims to the other scullery maid in the office, who is reluctantly in charge of travel, so to obtain her signature.
4. Return to your desk and make changes. Return to Scullery #2.
5. Take the initialed claim to the Queen Bee to initial.
6. Return to your desk and make changes. Return to Queen Bee.
7. Take the doubly-initialed claim to the Guru de Travel to check over (and initial).
8. Return to your desk and make changes. Return to G de T.
9. Receive accepted and initialed travel claims to be signed by the participants of the conference.
10. Return completed forms to G de T to file for payment.
So I spend all day Thursday and Friday doing the claims, moving the conference do to another monumental fsck up (though not the agency's fault), and then redoing the claims. When I leave for Chi-town, they are initialed in triplicate, received and ready to be approved by Herself. Enter LIW.
I put a sticky note on each claim with a list of information I needed to complete each one, since there are significant differences between all 24 of them. LIW takes the claims to the conference to be finally signed, but decides that I don't really need all the information I have requested and tells people to disregard most of the information on the note. THEN she decides that much of the information on the claims is incorrect, and takes it upon herself to not put questions on sticky notes to ask me later, but instead to white out all the information I had painstakingly researched and placed into the form, and put in INCORRECT INFORMATION, that now I have to find some way to fix. Well, auditors frown on white-out on forms that determine lump sums of money, so somehow I have to recreate the signatures of all these people onto forms that had she not screwed with in the first place would already be paid.
These are the forms that, in an ideal world, I would place in her desk chair with a file folder and a note, "You fscked 'em up, you fix 'em." Damn my ethics.
7.21.2006
from the Nether-regions
Hello, again, all. It's amazing how in a city that calls itself the pinnacle of current trends, cosmopolitan fashion, and a crossroads for communication, you can't find a freakin' computer to get online! Argh. So I sit at the public library on a 15-minute express computer typing as fast as I can in order to check all the emails, let you all know that I'm yet alive, etc.
For those who personally have a stake in my life:
Dave--Tomorrow, 6:30 pm. It's a date. And I'm bringin' you leftovers.
Ariel--Tim said that I need to give you a hug. THANK YOU! I'll let you know the decision when I get back.
Co-workers--I died and won't be back to work. Ever. (Don't I wish.)
That said, I'm down to 2 minutes. Better post this...
For those who personally have a stake in my life:
Dave--Tomorrow, 6:30 pm. It's a date. And I'm bringin' you leftovers.
Ariel--Tim said that I need to give you a hug. THANK YOU! I'll let you know the decision when I get back.
Co-workers--I died and won't be back to work. Ever. (Don't I wish.)
That said, I'm down to 2 minutes. Better post this...
7.16.2006
Damn laziness.
Well, the ending to this week was eventful, if nothing else. I spent all week setting up this freakin' conference that didn't get handled before specific others in my office took time off. So by Wednesday everything is all nice and neat (except the crap that has to go through the agency, of course) and Thursday is spent tidying up loose ends. Then Friday happened...
The first bit of communication I receive when I arrive at work is an email from the manager at the hotel holding the newly-arranged conference (that he did have the dates for in February...) -- just a friendly reminder that oops! He forgot to set up the sleeping rooms for the conference, and as a result, all my people get to sleep in their cars. Whee! Happy Friday.
So I also get a call, directly after calling the dumbass back to rectify *his* situation, that tells me that Sir Knight has had the misfortune of being in a car wreck. Moron hit-and-ran him. So I get to deal alone. Wazah. In two hours, I had all the paperwork changed over (and run through the agency, miraculously enough), and now the conference is in a different hotel in a different town.
...and the best part of this all is that the conference happens next week...while I'm in Chicago. So I don't have to deal with a bit of it. Oh well, life is hard, right?
The first bit of communication I receive when I arrive at work is an email from the manager at the hotel holding the newly-arranged conference (that he did have the dates for in February...) -- just a friendly reminder that oops! He forgot to set up the sleeping rooms for the conference, and as a result, all my people get to sleep in their cars. Whee! Happy Friday.
So I also get a call, directly after calling the dumbass back to rectify *his* situation, that tells me that Sir Knight has had the misfortune of being in a car wreck. Moron hit-and-ran him. So I get to deal alone. Wazah. In two hours, I had all the paperwork changed over (and run through the agency, miraculously enough), and now the conference is in a different hotel in a different town.
...and the best part of this all is that the conference happens next week...while I'm in Chicago. So I don't have to deal with a bit of it. Oh well, life is hard, right?
7.13.2006
OH MY FREAKING AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!
I HATE THIS DEPARTMENT!!!!!!!!!!!!
So I get summoned to help with the mailout...not a huge deal, but pointless...and the person who wheedled for help all yesterday and all this morning HAS TAKEN THE REST OF THE DAY OFF!
Fsking amazing.
A-hem.
Apparently, I have been working under a misconception this last few months. All along (and for the past score of years or so) I have thought that my existance was for the sole purpose of making selected persons' lives easier to manage. Apparently those "selected persons" are fewer than I originally presumed.
This week the fit has hit the shan over my aid to certain other royal personages in my office. I have figured out that it is better for me to sit at my desk twiddling rather than help the completely and utterly overworked person next door (or the one at the next desk over, I might add). Queen Bee has wanted me to work on some projects for Princess, but alas, I shan't work with her. Instead, I twiddle.
Now, I have been summoned to help another earned-title slug stuff letters. How is it that I can do a 2,000 piece mailout in 2 days and SHE can't do a 540-piece in 2 weeks? Grumble.
This week the fit has hit the shan over my aid to certain other royal personages in my office. I have figured out that it is better for me to sit at my desk twiddling rather than help the completely and utterly overworked person next door (or the one at the next desk over, I might add). Queen Bee has wanted me to work on some projects for Princess, but alas, I shan't work with her. Instead, I twiddle.
Now, I have been summoned to help another earned-title slug stuff letters. How is it that I can do a 2,000 piece mailout in 2 days and SHE can't do a 540-piece in 2 weeks? Grumble.
7.12.2006
Here we go again.
Let's see...police, calculus...oh yes. God.
Sis and I went upstairs after dinner to begin work on the next oh-so-fun chapter of math. Just as we start working on the first problem, thunder rumbles in the distance. We fix the calculator, then thunder rumbles not-so-in-the-distance. We pay little attention, and apparently God was feeling neglected, for just as we go to work on the computer, lightning strikes the pool in Sis and Hubby's backyard, thunder crashes, lightning arcs through the open window and into the two of us. We scream like little girls and Hubby comes crashing up the stairs.
He arrives to see Sis butt-up on the floor, me standing petrified, gazing out the window, and the computer monitor flashing in a threatening fashion. The lights blink once, twice, then go off permanently.
At least now I know that God feels the same way about calculus that I do.
Sis and I went upstairs after dinner to begin work on the next oh-so-fun chapter of math. Just as we start working on the first problem, thunder rumbles in the distance. We fix the calculator, then thunder rumbles not-so-in-the-distance. We pay little attention, and apparently God was feeling neglected, for just as we go to work on the computer, lightning strikes the pool in Sis and Hubby's backyard, thunder crashes, lightning arcs through the open window and into the two of us. We scream like little girls and Hubby comes crashing up the stairs.
He arrives to see Sis butt-up on the floor, me standing petrified, gazing out the window, and the computer monitor flashing in a threatening fashion. The lights blink once, twice, then go off permanently.
At least now I know that God feels the same way about calculus that I do.
7.11.2006
Oh the never-ending bliss!
For those who are interested that I'm still alive, I am. Yes, this is a feat considering the last 24 hours. At least I can't (totally) blame it on stupid people. Except maybe the guy at Wal-Mart, but usually in my book ineptitude doesn't fall under the "stupid" tree, just the "as-yet-untrained" tree.
So let's begin with some background. There is a family living next to Sister. They are out-of-their-minds, stark-raving PSYCHOTIC most of the time, and the rest of the time they are mere annoyances. Although I have gotten my revenge on the neighbors in a slight way, I have a feeling more, um, decisive action is to come.
The Loonies have decided that Sister and Hubby offend them by mere existence. They have social visits from the police several times per week due to varied nuisance calls and neigborhood disturbance. Their dogs amazingly know how to bark vociferously while they sleep, and Sis/Hubby have figured out a way to amplify their radio straight into the Loonies' bedroom. The other neighbors never hear the radio or the dogs, but alas, the Loonies are all-hearing. So begins last night.
I have Sis pick me up at the fix-a-car place, and when we return to Sis's abode so I can tutor her in math, the town's finest are there talking to their other neighbors about the radio that plays directly into the Loonies' bedroom. After an hour or so of social chit-chat, the police decide that it is time they leave. The rest of us retire to dinner, after which Sis and I retire upstairs to the online pre-cal course. A storm is brewing in the west, and I have decided that God doesn't like calculus.
Ah, Sir Knight calls...more later
So let's begin with some background. There is a family living next to Sister. They are out-of-their-minds, stark-raving PSYCHOTIC most of the time, and the rest of the time they are mere annoyances. Although I have gotten my revenge on the neighbors in a slight way, I have a feeling more, um, decisive action is to come.
The Loonies have decided that Sister and Hubby offend them by mere existence. They have social visits from the police several times per week due to varied nuisance calls and neigborhood disturbance. Their dogs amazingly know how to bark vociferously while they sleep, and Sis/Hubby have figured out a way to amplify their radio straight into the Loonies' bedroom. The other neighbors never hear the radio or the dogs, but alas, the Loonies are all-hearing. So begins last night.
I have Sis pick me up at the fix-a-car place, and when we return to Sis's abode so I can tutor her in math, the town's finest are there talking to their other neighbors about the radio that plays directly into the Loonies' bedroom. After an hour or so of social chit-chat, the police decide that it is time they leave. The rest of us retire to dinner, after which Sis and I retire upstairs to the online pre-cal course. A storm is brewing in the west, and I have decided that God doesn't like calculus.
Ah, Sir Knight calls...more later
7.09.2006
Stupid people, shopping, and a weekend
People suck. Really. Only here can uneducated people become educators. Geesh. I thought that after the weekend, the folly of my job would be wearing off, but alas, the cynicism and commentary continue. Grr to people who can't read for comprehension. I hate being grouped with other slugs who earned their nickname. Ugh.
In other news, I spent the weekend shopping in Hell. All the longhorns were facing the wrong direction and were painted the wrong color. A friend of mine summed it up right nicely (and I quote) "If I owned Texas and Hell, I'd rent out Texas and live in Hell." Amen, brother.
Maybe the location is why shopping didn't raise my flagging spirits as much as usual. I bought a fantastic pair of stilettos, a pair of Roman sandals, and a pair of polka-dotted slides, but I'm still depressed. Damn Texas.
T minus 8 days to Chicago. Maybe a trip to the favored city will be just what the doctor ordered. A trip...and a Dr. Pepper.
In other news, I spent the weekend shopping in Hell. All the longhorns were facing the wrong direction and were painted the wrong color. A friend of mine summed it up right nicely (and I quote) "If I owned Texas and Hell, I'd rent out Texas and live in Hell." Amen, brother.
Maybe the location is why shopping didn't raise my flagging spirits as much as usual. I bought a fantastic pair of stilettos, a pair of Roman sandals, and a pair of polka-dotted slides, but I'm still depressed. Damn Texas.
T minus 8 days to Chicago. Maybe a trip to the favored city will be just what the doctor ordered. A trip...and a Dr. Pepper.
7.07.2006
Happy Friday.
Well, I hope everyone made it past Tuesday with little sobriety and lots of fun. Not me. I just made it past Tuesday, and I'm jolly glad of that small accomplishment.
I've spent the last two days at a slug-fair in downtown. Chris, for the record, I have new appreciation for people sitting behind tables waiting for the masses to come to you. I'm a do-er, and waiting for 3000 people to decide that my program is the one they are looking for is not what I treasure. I have gotten off work early for the last two days (bonus) but the lack of freedom to do things that really need done (like planning the conference in 2 weeks that still doesn't have a location) is really frustrating. Most everyone else chats and plays games on their laptop, but alas. LIW had the laptop and was busy looking busy for most of the time. Then Princess wanted me to help with the press conference this morning, so I spent all morning standing around (literally--I stood in the back of the room and smiled at everyone) watching a bunch of people tell their life story.
Grr. Just give me a conference to organize, and I'll run the whole damn thing blindfolded with my hands tied. Make me be a flunky and I'll grumble because I have nothing to do. Maybe if the g'ment would figure out how to give personality tests and make those who don't like to work do my job, and give me one that is active and focused, we'd have a better state. Well, at least a more organized and efficient agency.
With oximorons like that in print, maybe hell will freeze over.
I've spent the last two days at a slug-fair in downtown. Chris, for the record, I have new appreciation for people sitting behind tables waiting for the masses to come to you. I'm a do-er, and waiting for 3000 people to decide that my program is the one they are looking for is not what I treasure. I have gotten off work early for the last two days (bonus) but the lack of freedom to do things that really need done (like planning the conference in 2 weeks that still doesn't have a location) is really frustrating. Most everyone else chats and plays games on their laptop, but alas. LIW had the laptop and was busy looking busy for most of the time. Then Princess wanted me to help with the press conference this morning, so I spent all morning standing around (literally--I stood in the back of the room and smiled at everyone) watching a bunch of people tell their life story.
Grr. Just give me a conference to organize, and I'll run the whole damn thing blindfolded with my hands tied. Make me be a flunky and I'll grumble because I have nothing to do. Maybe if the g'ment would figure out how to give personality tests and make those who don't like to work do my job, and give me one that is active and focused, we'd have a better state. Well, at least a more organized and efficient agency.
With oximorons like that in print, maybe hell will freeze over.
7.04.2006
...the bombs bursting in air
Happy Independence Day. Be safe (especially you, you-know-who-you-are...and don't take your brother on a date either.).
I have decided to forego the fireworks this year for fear that something along these lines would happen to me. Go figure.
Bombs away.
I have decided to forego the fireworks this year for fear that something along these lines would happen to me. Go figure.
Bombs away.
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