Same shit, different office.
12 Nov 2010 2 Comments
Things I should have tweeted.
What is with this “cropped pants and high-heeled ankle boots” shit? Because it’s ugly.
I don’t understand how someone with a law degree can’t figure out how to attach a file to an e-mail.
I wish Amazon would not recommend every single edition of a book or movie because you say you own one version.
Tired of the lack of originality in books…have been reading a lot of YA fiction because at least it’s not the same old tired “chased by stalker! oh noes, someone buried in yard! dorky yet hot detective to the rescue again!” shit.
Why is it that people don’t realize when they’re yelling and throwing shit around in a concrete breezeway, that the WHOLE COMPLEX can hear them?
Office. 10pm. Friday. Will kill my boss one procrastinating testicle at a time.
Hate when the boss getting drunk and taking a three hour lunch = me working late.
….
Realize it looks like I’m complaining about my job again. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve been plenty of places that sucked more ass. However, I’m just a little bitter and resentful lately. Let’s get some background here….
This job materialized at about the time I thought I was going to have to suck it up and go file for unemployment again. I had been “laid off” shortly before Christmas. I was told it was a layoff, but really, the bitch known previously as “Ms. Whiny” wanted me gone, since they had hired her a flunky with a law degree. Anyway, in the meantime, I was having seriously nasty lower back pain. I had an MRI in early December that showed some disc bulges, and the doctor said that we should probably try these epidural steroid injections. This is where they shove a giant needle in your spine, and it’s supposed to make you feel better so they don’t have to fuse your whole back together. However, due to the incipient holidays, they couldn’t fit me in for this needle-shoving until January.
I get laid off. I’m depressed and in pain. I have drugs. I take them. I have Shot #1…which was not pleasant, and did not really help. Also, I swear to god the motherfuckers at that fucking hospital are incompetent. First, they tell me not to drink anything after midnight. Then, they want me to pee in a cup so they can be sure I’m not knocked up. Two bags of IV fluid later, they finally give up and tell me they can do a blood test. Great, assholes, why didn’t you just do that shit in the first place? Then, the anesthesia doesn’t really work. A little too much conscious, not enough sedation. Another week or two of drugs. Second shot, which actually does help.
I played a lot of World of Warcraft. I didn’t sleep nearly enough. And about the time I decided, ok, really must get off ass, a chick I worked with at the hellhole calls me. She was the office manager’s assistant who was doing the office manager’s job, and had taken a job at another office, as the actual office manager. She asked if I was still looking. I replied in the affirmative, and e-mailed her a resume. She called two days later and asked if I could start the following day. I didn’t even have to interview, just show up. Which was good, because mentally, I was not ready for the kind of fake nice bullshitface I would have to put on to interview for something.
My job is really not exactly challenging, and the person I replaced was a dipshit. I was working for two younger attorneys. A year later, after demonstrating that I’m not drooling stupid like some of the morons they hire, they decide I get to be docket bitch. For those not in the legal field, there are lots of deadlines. Court deadlines, artificial deadlines created by lawyers trying to feel important, etc. These deadlines, along with hearings and client meetings and depositions and shit like that, all have to go on a calendar, a/k/a the docket. Woe be unto you if you do not correctly remember all of the stupid rules or put something down at the wrong time. Being docket bitch kind of sucks. Not to mention, the program we use to do it has some quirks. Things randomly appear. Closed files show up on to-do lists. There is no way to make it stop, but they blame you. They also blame you for shit the three incompetent asstards who did the job BEFORE you did. The deal was, if I agreed to this horseshit, I would only have to work for one attorney and not two.
Well, that lasted all of four months.
There is one woman in my office…let’s call her Mrs. C. After Mrs. Chokesondick in South Park, because that’s what her boobs look like. Not to mention, she’s annoying and repetitive and has absolutely ZERO problem solving skills. She was supposed to take over attorney #2 for me. She can’t hack it. The only thing she can do is type, and she even fucks that up. I’m not entirely sure why she still has a job. There are a few others…let’s call them Slutface and Artsyface…who also should not have jobs. However, Slutface flashes cleavage a lot and Artsyface looks good in a short skirt, so they stick around. Mrs. C is another refugee from my former place of employment, and the office manager kind of promised her she wouldn’t get shitcanned….so I ended up with two attorneys again, plus the docket, and did I get another raise? Not so much.
Further explanation, dear god this is getting long, but it’s all relevant, pinky swear. This office drinks a great deal of beer. Lots and lots of beer. One of our runner’s jobs is to go get beer and ensure that the fridge is stocked. It’s all for “after hours” but sometimes “after hours” starts a little early on Fridays. The bosses get drunk while they work late. It’s like a frat house after 5:30. They break things (like the emergency exit sign and people’s desk decorations and furniture), then they dictate stuff that I have to decipher the next morning or leave me post-it notes that say things like “WTF IS THIS SHIT”. Really, that’s ok, because I don’t particularly have to watch my mouth at this job, and the same post-it notes go the other direction.
Attorney #2, let’s call him…Mr. Baseball. (Let’s call attorney #1 Mr. Music.) Mr. Baseball is currently going through a divorce. Mr. Baseball is drinking more than usual. He comes in late, leaves early, and is not getting his shit done. His procrastination has resulted in me having to work late more than once. I don’t really give a shit WHAT he does in his personal life. I give a shit when his personal life interferes with my personal life. Which is happening. Then, this afternoon, Mr. Music and the other two attorneys who were actually THERE today drank their lunch, and we were supposed to get to leave early. Did I? Not really. Would I have, if the boss had been there from 1-3pm? Probably.
I hate lawyers.
*tap* *tap* *testing*
03 Jun 2010 1 Comment
It’s been a while….but I think I’m getting the urge to write again. Lots of things fumbling around in my head right now, and I’m realizing that 140 characters are not quite enough for complete self-expression. And I’m sure as shit not posting my whole life on Facebook when people from high school have started to find me. Thanks, but I don’t need to broadcast my feelings of inadequacy in the midst of everyone’s happy and fulfilling lives, nor do I want said musings interspersed with requests for places to hide dead bodies and requests for sparkly farm animals.
So, where was I? Because while much has transpired, much remains the same.
I shall begin with a list.
1. For a change, I actually mostly like my job. Clearly, this is not the same shithole where I was employed the last time I wrote here.
2. I am a total Kindle junkie. I think my bank account would like heroin better.
3. I received the hardback of Stephen King’s latest for Christmas, and I haven’t read it yet because it’s not portable like my Kindle. Have considered purchasing it for Kindle, but that seemed really lazy and dumb.
4. I agree with a co-worker that electronic reading devices are a great way to pretend you’re not reading trashy thriller smut. Plus, people always ask about the GADGET, not what you’re READING on it.
5. My pajama pants all have holes in the ass. I really need some new ones, but my online ordering resulted in substandard loungewear which got a hole in the ass like, the first time I washed them.
6. Even though logically you realize that all living creatures are mortal, being reminded of it pretty much sucks ass.
That is all for now. Carry on.
Um, yeah. Moved again. I swear, this is the last time.
17 Jul 2007 1 Comment
Pete has transferred all my D-land archives, and I now have my very own domain.
Attempting to Avoid Desk Drool…
15 Mar 2007 8 Comments
in Random Silliness, Work Insanity
Something nice actually happened at work on Tuesday. Mr. Meeting, entirely unprovoked, brought the paralegals ice cream sandwiches.
The rest of the week has been utterly boring on a stick. While I am somewhat glad that the case which was going to make me travel again next week settled (because it was one that we had been told to get rid of, and if we’d had to actually try it, it would have meant a week of 20-hour days), having it settle means that I have not jack shit to do at work. Oh, sure. I could put paper in folders. As the matter of fact, there are several folders which need to be paper-fortified sitting in my office. But we all know that my hatred of filing blazes with the heat of a thousand suns, and I would rather surf the net and whine. It’s kind of strange that I’m bored, because last week, I was out sick two days, and the days I was here were mostly spent sniffling, coughing, and generally wishing I was at home. I actually went to the doctor, because at that point, the case hadn’t settled, and I knew that getting on yet another airplane when I couldn’t breathe through my nose was not going to be very pleasant, so I figured I should get some drugs and attempt to recover. And I will admit that I was hoping that one of the drugs would be Happy Fun Narcotic-Laced Cough Syrup.
Alas, my doctor was being a douchebag. He gave me some antibiotics and sent me on my merry way. Problem was, the over-the-counter concoctions were NOT DOING ANYTHING, and I was waking up all night coughing and sniffling. So I call the nurse. Bitch doesn’t call me back. I call the next day, when I drug my sorry ass to work, but still felt like a steaming pile, and she was not in the least sympathetic. She recommended some different cold medicine. Mr. Meeting told me to go to the doctor downtown who everyone calls “Dr. Feelgood” because he will dispense the prescriptions freely. Mr. Meeting called them for me, but unfortunately, Dr. Feelgood’s partner was out, and they couldn’t get me an appointment. The only good thing about all of this is that I have almost no appetite whatsoever, and I still don’t….I can sorta breathe, but I’m still plugged up, and nothing sounds good food-wise. Maybe another week of this and my pants will fit the way they’re supposed to again. What’s that movie line? Something about being one stomach flu away from my goal weight? (Well, in my case, it’s probably more like one mild case of pancreatic cancer away from my goal weight, but the principle applies.) For those who wondered, St. Louis sucked monkey nuts. First, because of how early we left on Saturday, there was a lot of boring time. Second, we had no rental car. (Fortunately, there was a Borders next door.) Third, the hearing was bad, through no fault of our own….a witness flaked the hell out. Fourth, due to said lack of vehicle, we ate at the same restaurant twice a day, every day, from Sunday through Thursday. It was a nice restaurant, with many tasty seafood entrees, but by Wednesday, I felt as though I might be growing fins and gills, or perhaps a hard shell and some pincers.
This is St. Paddy’s Day weekend, so get drunk and wear green, but make sure you don’t drink so much your FACE goes green, mmkay? And think happy thoughts, because Lando MIGHT actually get the whole weekend off, for the first time in a zillion years, so continue beaming the “YOU WILL NOT BE AN ASSTARD” rays into his boss’s brain for the next 48 hours.
Meet Me in St. Louis.
21 Feb 2007 10 Comments
in Pissing Me Off, Work Insanity
Guess what? This entry? It’s going to feature some nice bitching about work! I’m sure you’re all just SHOCKED.
I have a hearing next week in
St. Louis. In and of itself, this is not a horrible thing. Getting away from this increasingly weird-vibe shithole is somewhat appealing, but leaving at 7:30 Saturday morning for a hearing that doesn’t start till Monday? Not so much. We’re allegedly going to “be available for our client.” Translation: sit around in a boring-ass hotel room all fucking day for a one-hour meeting. Heaven forbid our client should have to work on Sunday instead of Saturday. Way to fuck up my weekend, Mr. Snorty.
Furthermore, every time I talk to Ms. Whiny, the urge to bitch-slap her upside her (strangely flat and pointy at the same time) head gets stronger and stronger. It’s been a long time since someone pushed my buttons in quite this fashion, and sooner or later, I fear that I will be forced to push back. There’s only so much of being treated like a retarded five-year-old who just shit all over her 5000-thread-count sheets that I can take.
The travel thing is weird to me right now. When I originally applied for this job, I was unattached. And honestly, the person to whom I was loosely “attached” for the preceding time period….well, let’s just say I never really missed him much when I was gone. I’ve always liked to go places (especially when someone else is paying for it…hehe), and had never actually had a job where I got to go anywhere but to the fucking courthouse, bank, office supply store (and that was a rare treat), so I thought it would be fun. Plus, I got fed a lot of shit about going to cool places. So far, it’s been your basic Midwestern meccas that I’ve seen before…and I don’t think there’s anything “cool” on the docket until October. Unless
Cleveland has somehow magically become cool. At present, though, going somewhere means I will miss someone.
The Universe does have a way of making you eat your words. During my quasi-relationship with the former GID, and actually, in most of the ones I had before that, I felt like once a week was a perfectly acceptable…nay, DESIRABLE…amount of time to spend with your significant (or insignificant) other. But since I have actually been involved with someone whose work schedule and mine are not exactly conducive to weeknight hanging out…someone who I actually want to spend more time with…I’ve realized that perhaps once a week is not enough. And when that once a week is turned into 8 hours by virtue of a job that is pissing you off more and more with each passing day…well, that just blows the goat ass.
Celebrate VD!
14 Feb 2007 8 Comments
It’s still a silly holiday. Unfortunately, I made the mistake of going shopping last Friday, and finding a few things that I thought someone might like. (A sweater. And some pajama pants, because, despite his insistence to the contrary, he didn’t have any. Sweatpants, yes. Pajama pants, no. There is a difference.)
I was serious when I said that (a) the presents were just because, and not for Valentine’s day and (b) that reciprocation was not required. However, when he went to go fetch breakfast Saturday morning (which was really nice in and of itself), he was gone a little longer than the usual donut-and-sausage-roll-fetching trip.
He came back with a little bag, which he tried to pretend wasn’t there. (“What? The bags had donuts in them!”) I pointed out that I didn’t think donuts came in gift bags. He finally caved and gave me one of these:
Yes, a pink one. But I like it anyway.
And some games, too…although I believe Final Fantasy XII was really for him… (“Take the game with you! You should play it! But don’t save over my game, ok?”)
But the Nintendo wasn’t for Valentine’s day, either. Hehe.
I shall close with the traditional Valentine’s fun, which involves making a list of the first 10 songs that pop up on your MP3 player/computer with “love” in the title. Note: I am at work, and the selection is far more limited than the computer at home.
Beck – “Think I’m in Love”
Maroon 5 – “This Love”
Pixies – “La La Love You”
Sarah McLachlan – “I Love You”
Elton John – “Funeral for a Friend (Love Lies Bleeding)”
OMD – “So in Love”
kd lang – “Love is Like a Cigarette”
KT Tunstall – “Stopping the Love”
Morrissey – “Trouble Loves Me”
Elton John – “All the Young Girls Love Alice”
Worth 1000 Words, and None of Them are about How I Hate My Job.
08 Feb 2007 8 Comments
Since any entry I might feel compelled to write at present would likely be some combination of obscenities, “boss,” and “work” I decided to swipe a little blogthing from Pine Curtain and let ya’ll invent your own tirades about why Loopy hates her job this week. As a bonus for my lazy ass, this is a photo-essay type entry. I DID have to go looking for them, though, dammit.
ME:
NOT ME:
ME:
NOT ME:
ME:
NOT ME:
ME:
NOT ME:
ME:
NOT ME:
ME:
NOT ME:
ME:
NOT ME:
ME:
NOT ME:
ME:
NOT ME:
When I Grow Up, I Want to Be Rich and Famous. Or Just Rich Would Do.
01 Feb 2007 9 Comments
in Pissing Me Off, Work Insanity
I hate everyone at work lately. All of them.
My supervising paralegal is being a complete bitch and treating me like I’m retarded. There’s no need for that. Some of the things that I have to do right now are things that, because we’d been slow and hadn’t received a bunch of new files, I haven’t had to do before. Excuse me for asking questions and not immediately knowing every single procedure. I hate all the “procedures,” because what they mostly seem to involve is me doing boring, tedious bullshit and then getting bitched at for not doing the boring, tedious bullshit correctly.
Mr. Snorty is being a condescending dickweed and not listening to me, and then when he does finally listen, basically confirms that I was right in the first place.
Ms. Whiny acts like I don’t have shit else to do besides put things in notebooks for HER cases.
Mr. Meeting is being high maintenance and turning into Mr. Snorty with the coughing and sniffling noises coming from his office. At least he has not yet taken up recreational ball-scratching.
All of them are demonstrating that they have a serious lack of reading comprehension skills.
All I’ve done for two weeks is shuffle paper and put it in folders and/or binders.
I’m not a fucking file clerk.
If I wanted to be a file clerk, I would have applied for that job.
I am seriously starting to hate my job, and I wonder what is wrong with me that I hate every job I do after 6 months to a year.
I think maybe I really am in the wrong line of work. I would like to apply for the job of “lottery winner” or perhaps “Paris Hilton”. Except that I really hate little yippy dogs and I would require an extensive amount of liposuction to be able to fit one leg in her jeans.
I would, however, be sure that my girly bits were fully covered at all times.
I don’t think I actually have much chance of winning the lottery, either: I’m not 80 years old and I don’t work in a food-processing plant. I did notice that the recent winners from Missouri had several useless unemployed adult children, and I think they were all male. Perhaps they need to adopt an adult daughter? I think so.
Taking care of older people is probably easier than dealing with a bunch of asshole lawyers anyway.
Would You Like a Side of Cranky with That?
25 Jan 2007 8 Comments
in Pissing Me Off, Rollin' With the Homies, Work Insanity
Ten things that are currently pissing me off (Pete initiated this trend today, and since I’m feeling cranky but simultaneously incapable of telling an actual beginning-middle-transitions-end story, I thought I would institute as a new, well, that M-word that I fucking think is stupid):
(1) Ms. Whiny. I don’t have another actual trial with her till October, but she’s bugging me about wanting fucking notebooks on a case so she can draft the answer. Bitch, the documents are in the fucking computer. And I know you know how to find them, because you take great delight in telling me all about what is and isn’t in the everfucking notebooks. So find them, and shut the fuck up. You’re not on top of my list right now.
(2) The weather. I think the ice from last week almost has melted, just in time for it to rain and then freeze again this weekend. My car does NOT LIKE inclement weather. It is a fair-weather friend. It’s low to the ground, and rear wheel drive, and the driver’s side window leaks when it rains. However, it’s also close to being paid for, and so I’m telling myself it has personality and planning what I’ll do with the $500-ish a month I won’t have to pay to the bank after October.
(3) My supervising paralegal. She is usually cool, but I swear she’s not getting any or something lately, because for real, if she obsesses over one more fucking folder on one more closed file which is (all together now) in the motherfucking computer and is CLOSED AND OVER WITH ANYWAY I will surely scream and throw things.
(4) My mail person, who doesn’t seem to understand the note on the mailbox that says “LEAVE PACKAGES IN HALLWAY.”
(5) Lando’s douchebag boss, who can’t seem to retain an employee long enough for him to have a whole weekend off.
(6) The tights I bought from a certain national plus-size retailer which LOOKED like they were the same as the other four pairs I have at home and love, but ARE NOT THE FUCKING SAME. Less spandex, or something, so they’re all baggy around the ankles and tight around the ass. Grrr.
(7) My cats, and I’m not sure which one, for throwing up on every single pair of my favorite shoes. They were probably ALL in on it.
(8) World of Warcraft, and its creators/administrators, Blizzard, who, despite much downtime and alleged improvements, STILL cannot manage to keep their game servers active and lag-free for longer than an hour at a time.
(9) The fact that my boots which are the best in the snow are also the worst for walking any distance whatsoever. They’re steel-toed workboots, which I bought on sale about 11 years ago and still look almost new. But the steel part hits right where the seam on socks is (I’ve tried ALL my socks), and the blisters = not cool. I miss flip-flops.
(10) The fact that both BFRB and I are having some work-type scheduling issues which may make us unable to go to this year’s Bonnaroo.
Really, I could go on for a while, but unfortunately, I have to go deal with Mr. Snorty’s bullshit. Super.
