On any given day, nearly everyone.
Our secretary. Listen and listen closely. The fact that the big boss now realizes that you’d rather sit at your desk and do puzzles does not mean that you get to annoy me. You’ve made it very clear that you are too incompetent to be trusted with a stapler, much less actual work. And no. No matter how many times you ask - I don’t need your help. You need to do your own work and quit pestering the rest of us. And quit marinating in your perfume! <SLAP!>
[QUOTE=alice_in_wonderland]
I would like to slap a certain boy who can’t make up his friggin’ mind already. Actually, he gets two hits.
Then, I would like to slap myself for giving a shit about said boy.
QUOTE]
Ditto.
Let’s see…grandpa and uncle on one side, nana and granddad on the other side, alcohol, cocaine, crappy food, …the list goes on and on. He called me talking about his rough lifestyle and I thought he was going to tell me he had HIV.
I’d like to slap two people who are close to me for using me as their personal therapist and bitter tirade audience.
I KNOW you don’t like to work for a living. Join the club. You’re too old to quit in a huff over some minor irritation, so why don’t you grow a pair and deal with the fact that working isn’t meant to be all warm and pink and fluffy and perfect?! A little mature philosophy here would work wonders, don’t you think?
And spare me the organ recital. You’re not the only one with assorted minor medical issues. I’m not interested in hearing them listed in detail AGAIN.
Can’t some folks engage in a conversation without complaining nonstop?
SLAP!
My team manager, who actually told me (after the fourth time I said "the technical library is in poor condition. I would like to work on it so documents are easier to find) that he couldn’t give me extra work projects because that wouldn’t be fair to my coworkers who didn’t feel comfortable asking him for extra work.
My across-the-aisle neighbor at work who, much like Tuckerfan’s coworker, sounds like Pete Puma. I want to take a ballpeen hammer to his face.
My cable internet provider who doesn’t seem to understand that because the entire neighborhood loses their internet connection every freakin’ time it rains means there is a problem.
:::SLAP!:::
I don’t want to slap anyone, I’m a pacifist.
:eek: Antigen, do you work at my hospital? This is eerie.
If yes, let’s double-slap them for good measure.
If not, let’s swap, and they’ll never know what hit t hem!
Apologies for that extra space between ‘t’ and ‘hem’. Apparently I was ninjaed by a rogue keyspace insertion.
Gasp! Her sister works in my office! She’s got 12 siblings, so you never know, they could really be sisters. Sis, listen up, you will not get a good review for training your replacement, since she was hired because you are incapable of doing the job you hired for. And another :smack:: to the boss, for finally changing the structure of the department into the exact same thing I asked for 2 years ago, except that I planned on hiring *competent * people, for example, someone who had experience with computers, you know those black boxy things that you surf the internet on? Oh, and learn the difference between a background picture and a screensaver, would you?
Your cable internet provider is my radio internet provider! At least after half a dozen calls they’ve already figured out that I was right when I told them Higa Norte shuts off every time there’s a storm, now they send the tech off directly whenever the sky starts rumbling.
I’d like to stick my hospital lab management on the slap list as well.
Off-tours has been working with a skeleton crew for how long now? Two, three years? I can’t remember, it’s all a blur. We’ve complained about unsafe staffing levels for ages now but you do nothing because that wouldn’t be “cost-effective”. Oh, but somehow you found the money to give all the management staff a big fat salary increase. Nothing for the peons of course. Well guess what? I’m going to save you oodles of money by taking myself and my experience to a new hospital lab starting next month. A place that believes in staffing to match the workload. “SMACK!”
And a smaller slap upside the head for my stupid brother who won’t take care of his stupid self.
My step-daughter. You waited until your youngest child didn’t need transportation or a babysitter anymore and then, after all those years, you threw us out of your life and cut us off from your family. You said I am “selfish.” Maybe it’s true. I certainly regret the five hundred dollars we spent on you the night before.
You say that you love your father. Yet you are unwilling to try to work things out for his sake. We are in our sixties. We dont have time to go through this again.
For the last ten years you’ve talked about how much you regret the six years you shut us out before. You were all smiles and hugs as long as your friend the nurse was stealing anti-depressants for you from the doctor’s office. But you’ve stopped them now and you want to put a bullet through your head. But will you get help? No. Because you never need help. Never. Ever. You’d rather destroy your life and the lives of others around you than to admit that you might be wrong.
Your 19 year old has OCD and you make her feel weak and bad for needing medication. You’ve discouraged her from taking it for years. You wouldn’t take her to see a doctor. Medicine is bad. Meanwhile she is self-medicating with all the wrong things.
And what did you say to the sixteen year old to turn her against me? We were so close that we had never had a cross word in ten years except when she was six and hid from me in the bookstore. She knew she was special to me and I to her. But that last night she was cold as ice. A pale pink frost. What could you have possibly said to her to make her so callous to me?
Nothing will make me think the boy bought into it though. He’ll be back. He’s not enough like you to believe you forever. He will figure it out.
You said that I don’t care how you feel. Stop telling me how I feel and TELL me what you feel. Your back is turned to me. When have you ever sat down and just talked to me? The one time you asked me if I minded postponing the adoption, I told you that I wanted our relationship to be a guilt-free zone. Does that sound like I don’t care how you feel?
Your husband said that you’ve had a problem with me for a long time. Then why didn’t you ever talk with me about it? Why did you have to wait until your in-laws were here and then just glower at me all night and then finally explode in front of them? You even locked us out of your house the night that we took everyone in your family out to dinner. I had just left and needed to get back in to get my sweater. I could SEE you all sitting on the couch but you wouldn’t come to the door. AND THERE HADN’T BEEN AN ARGUMENT OR ANYTHING!
You are mentally ill. You can fake it with the people you work with, but you can’t fake it with your family forever. Now that you can’t put your gult onto me, it will have to go onto someone else. Will you start slapping your daughter around again? Last time she slapped you back. She loves you but she slapped you back. I love you too, but right now I want to hit you. And I have to keep the anger going or I’ll break.
We’ve been six months without family. Just because you don’t like me, you have wrecked fifteen other relationships.
The woman at the movie theater who plunked herself down in the seat next to me last weekend. This fine specimen of humanity:
- arrived ten minutes after the movie started;
- didn’t bother to look behind her before she parked her fat ass in the seat, sat on my handbag that I’d rested there and grumbled at me when I asked her to give my bag;
- had applied her perfume with a crop duster - the scent was so strong that the friend I was with and I were getting headaches from it so we decided to change seats, and she grumbled again when we tried to pass by her to get out of the row.
The lady who fills in for me on Sundays.
My boss demands someone to do my job for all hours he works. Since he works 15 hours a day, 6 days a week, this means he gets three people with my job description. I’m primary - meaning I work Mon - Fri, 9:15 - 5:15. I cover the customary business day. There’s a very nice lady who takes over for me at 5:15 Mon - Thurs (not Friday, because he’s Jewish and quite observant). Then there’s the Other One. The Other One only works occasional Sundays.
I dread her Sundays.
She’s filthy. She leaves food detritus and gobs of hair all over my desk. She’s left chewed gum sticking to the bottom front edge of my chair - right where my legs hit it when I sit down. (This has so far cost me two pairs of nice pants.) I’m forever finding her used Kleenex laying all over everything on the desk - and occasionally filed into the client files. I don’t know why.
She changes every goddamn setting on my computer. Outlook settings, Windows settings, Word settings, internet settings, display settings. Since she’s required to use my log in, she changes every damn one. If there’s a setting, she’ll change it.
Generally she manages to break my computer to the point where I need to have the guys from Help Desk up here for half an hour to rectify matters. She does so in a different way every time.
She isn’t capable of filing (how the hell can you not be able to file adequately? The freaking files are in alphabetical order by client and matter, just find the right client and matter and stick the damn papers in the front of the file! And your used napkins do not belong in the client files!) yet she insists on doing it anyway - despite being told to stop. I have to systematically go through every single one of my files every Monday to make sure she hasn’t misfiled anything. This would be less heinous if I didn’t have (at last count) *512 files * (client files and administrative files combined).
I have to hide the checkbooks (I keep a firm checkbook and my boss’ personal checkbook at my desk because one of my tasks is making sure that various bills and expenses get paid on time - like filing fees, bar membership fees, vendor bills, etc.) because she’s not capable of following basic accounting practices - like making note of the amount, payee and purpose of a freaking check in the register.
She moves every object on my desk. To a different location every Monday. Every week I have to play the “Find the Office Supplies” game because they damn well aren’t where I left them on Friday.
She resets all the printer defaults. For the entire floor.
God forbid she types up a document. I’ll just have to redo it because she won’t use our styles (therefore ensuring that the next person to have to edit the goddamn thing will have to start from scratch or be cursed to an endless stream of make do minor patches to get it stylistically correct - which is important to legal documents). She manages to corrupt the normal template on my computer at least once a month.
She reads and deletes my emails - including personal emails and work emails that require my action on Monday. Sometimes she clears out the deleted items file after she does so. The IT guys at the firm have taken to duping all my messages as they come in and sending me the dupes on Monday morning. However, she feels comfortable leaving her cybersex exchanges with her sweetie for me to deal with. I have to read the goddamn things since I have no way of knowing before I open it if it’s something I have to deal with or more cyber.
She signs my work email address up for spam and glurge. She wants to read it. She’s into glurge.
She calls me up on Sundays and tries to make me talk her through how to use transcription software over the phone. When I don’t have the software on my home PC, have no idea what she’s trying to do with it (because she won’t explain), and am not a freaking tech support person anyway. Nevermind she could call the tech support guys who are located two floors down and have them come show her. She’s gotta call me. The first time she did it, I was stupid enough to take the call and she held me on the phone for two fucking hours. Now, I don’t answer the phone on Sunday.
I lock the cabinet with my client billing in it and take the key with me. Last time she got in there it took me two weeks and a number of very, very apologetic calls to clients to sort out the mess. Do you even know how incompetant it makes me look to call the goddamn client to ask them questions about the bill *I * sent them because some worthless idiot destroyed all my bill documentation?
Oh, and just lately, she’s convinced I’ve stolen her sweater and keeps leaving me increasingly-snarky notes about it. Christ only knows why I’d steal her sweater.
Just as a bonus, she also apparently feels compelled to use the desks and computers of the ladies who share my office with me and treats them the same way.
I’ve complained and complained about her to the PTB, to no avail. They claim to have spoken to her. I’m almost convinced they’re lying to me and they round file the complaints.
I don’t think there’s an object big enough to smack her with.
This damn kitten of mine, if she can’t get it through her thick skull that my leg is not a tree for her to shimmy up with her razor sharp claws, and my hair is not a tasty snack, and when I pick her up that’s not her cue to bite my nose.
She’s just lucky she’s so freaking cute.
My coworker. She used all four weeks of her personal/vacation days already. She told the boss she was taking the last six weeks of the year off for a facelift. Boss said no way. She threw a tantrum.
Fast forward nearly two months. Yesterday she told the boss that oh by the way, she was taking the last six weeks of the year off for a facelift. Boss said no way. She threw another tantrum and demanded to know why the boss didn’t tell her that she couldn’t do it.
There are no words. There is only SLAPSLAPSLAP
Aangelica, why in GOD’S NAME is she required to use your login? If you have an IT guy who’s even a little bit competent, he should be able to give her her own login which has access to the things she MUST have access to without having access to your login, email, etc.
I’d like to give a huge slap to anyone who says this kind of thing.
Ohh, I’d like to slap the idiots who do that, too. At my previous job, we had a professor who liked to do that. He set the printer to duplex by default, which is NOT a good setting for it to be on when someone tries to print a transparency… We eventually set a password on the printer defaults to keep him from changing them, after asking him not to do it for the 6.02*10[sup]23[/sup]rd time.
There’s another clueless luser I’d like to slap, too. Hey, dingleberry: the only way I will know if my attempt at a fix solved your problem is if you tell me. I am not psychic.