I'm Steaming Mad (work-related)

Got a woman who works directly behind me, and from time to time she’ll turn around and peek at my computer screen. On a few occasions she’s seen me sneaking a peek at the SDMB, and she gets all snippety and asks “Do you not have anything to do?”

Now, keep in mind that I’m a pretty darned good worker, thank-you very much. I figure that my productivity and such entitle me to a peek at the Internet twice a day or so. It’s not like I spend hours on the SDMB.

So guess what. Little b*tch gets a personal phone call today (I haven’t had once since I’ve worked here, BTW) and is on the phone whispering sweet nothings to her husband for FOURTY FIVE FREAKING MINUTES :mad:!

I thought about telling The Boss, but that has “tattletale” written all over it. Instead I just looked at the little b*tch and grinned.

My flame for the day.

I run a small nuclear medicine clinic. I am the only one, or at least I was for a while. This means no sick days, no vacation, no nothing, unless I can find a temp to cover. I’m salaried, and was working 10= hour days for months and months. No one said a thing. No, “Thanks Vince” for keeping everything going. Nothing. Now, I finally found someone to cover one day a week, so I work 4/10 hr days. Every week at least one person says, “Gee, must be nice only working 4 days a week.” That wouldn’t be so bad if it weren’t said in a tone that suggests I’m getting over. Fuckin’ bastards!

I can’t stand my carpool partner. I’ve come to loathe her over the months. Unfortunately, I’m trapped with her. I can’t drive anymore, no one else who works in my building lives in my area, I don’t want to make my mother or husband rearrange their schedules and drive out of their ways to accomodate me, the bus line doesn’t come out to my area, and I can’t afford a taxi. So I swallow my rage and ride with her.

But she’s unreliable. She takes a lot of sick days, so I do have to call my mom at the last minute and beg her to give me a ride, or ask my husband if he can go into work an hour late and give me a ride. That wouldn’t even be so bad if she wasn’t just so full of herself. When discussing a co-worker who has to take several weeks off to have a hysterectomy because of endemitriosis <sp?> and cervical cancer, my carpool partner poo-pooed her saying, “I’ve had that and fibroid tumors for years and just put up with it. But some people just aren’t that strong.” She has cervical cancer too, you dolt! That’s not the same thing as “fibroid tumors”! She’s already had the freezing thing done 3 times and it keeps coming back, she has to have this done! Jeez, you were a minister’s wife and you can’t muster any more sympathy than that for your fellow human being?? Plus, you have to call in sick for every little sniffle that comes down the pike. You’re as strong as an overcooked piece of spaghetti.

AND yesterday she called me about 10 minutes before she was supposed to pick me up and said she’d just got out of bed!! I let her drive my new car, I let her take it out to run errands on the lunch hour, I let her cheat me out of her fair share of gas money, and she can’t repay me any better than this? She’s just so damn unreliable, that’s her new nickname so far as I’m concerned. She’s the opposite of “Old Faithful,” she’s “Old Unreliable.”

And then there’s the job rotation thing. I won’t get into the stupid details, but she was sent to another department to be an Administrative Law Judge’s secretary for 6 months. The first month, she told everyone in my dept. how terrible the other secretaries are, how they wouldn’t help train her and they hid their old work on her desk to make it look like she was behind. But when we’re in the car alone together, she tells me she likes the atmosphere so much better in that dept. and if that position comes open to be filled permanently, she’s going to go for it. So who is she trying to impress with these stories? How does she really want us to feel? I hope she DOES get that position and I will only have to deal with her during the commute and forget about her the rest of the day. I’m glad she hasn’t been in my department the last two months and hope she never comes back.

And she’s such a snob. She regals me with stories of growing up rich and priviledged on the East Coast, how the East Coast people are so much classier and friendlier and more honest than us low brow Oregonians, how she had mob protection on the East Coast. I think she’s schizophrenic. Yeah, I grew up the daughter of poor farm folk, yeah, I have never traveled outside this country, yeah, I wear plaid and denim to the office every day. I’m a hick, thanks for reminding me at every opportunity. If the East Coast is so grand, if that’s where all your real friends are, then why don’t you go back? All you have out here are ex-husbands and hard feelings, go back! Yeah, they probably don’t want you over there, either.

But it isn’t just the stories, it’s the cutting remarks she makes about people. Last week was the neighborhood watch national night out. My little hick town wasn’t participating, but another co-worker who lives in Salem invited us to join her family’s neighborhood party. It was fun; my co-worker was one of the coordinators of her neighborhood’s shindig and she made she we got good prizes, first crack at the food, and fun stuff like that. Plus there was music and stuff, and I felt good that my co-worker thought of us and wanted to share with us. She’s not just a co-worker, she’s a friend. But I mentioned it to the carpool partner later that week and her first reaction was shock that she’d never heard of this. How could something fun go on without her knowing? But then she poo-pooed it, “Well, they need something like that for the poor neighborhoods. The poor kids who can’t afford swim club need something fun. They certainly didn’t do that in Debra’s neighborhood!” (Debra is the staff attorney she mooched off of for 10 weeks last year when she was homeless, but that’s a whole nother story!) I think she’s just jealous that no one invited her to their neighborhood party, but she has to put down my co-worker, her children, their neighbors, and anyone else who had fun doing something so low-brow and uncouth. She made a similar cutting remark about the company picnic last weekend, which she was aware of but chose not to attend. Poo-poo, poo-poo, she’s so full of poo-poo that she squeaks going into a turn.

Oh I could rant like this all day, but what’s the use? As undependable as she is, I still have to depend on her. I do have hopes that a vanpool will be started (we received an e-mail that one was under consideration for our area), but she poo-pooed that, too. Because then she couldn’t use my car on the lunch hour. Bitch.

Demo said:

A-fucking-men! I work part time because I had a spinal fusion and now have a chronic back problem that totally SUCKS ASS. I would not wish it on my worst enemy, and that’s the truth. So I can only work part time. I get the same shit from people “Must be nice”. (even from people who knew why) I used to get all torqued off and explain myself. Now I tell 'em a hearty “Fuck You” (I really do) because they are just plain rude and I don’t owe anyone an explaination or the pleasure of making me feel guilty. Sometimes I say “Yeah, it kicks ass. I’m going home and going swimming and watching soaps. Maybe I’ll go shopping or see a movie. I guess the possibilites are endless! Have fun, work monkey!”

I hate some people.

Heavens to murgatroyd, Gr8Kat! This person drives your new car and behaves like this? Surely you can find a better deal than that; there must be somebody trustworthy who lives near you who could drive you to and from work in exchange for having the use of your car during the day. A stay-at-home mom in a one-car family, for example? That way you could make clear your terms about reliability and punctuality (and work out a way to take care of the inevitable occasional emergencies) before making the commitment.

(P.S. If you sold the car, could you afford the taxis? If insurance and maintenance alone cost what, $3000 per year, you could afford to spend—lessee, 50 work weeks a year, 5 work days a week—$12/day just from those savings alone. Or have you checked for paratransit services in your area? Oh wait, you mentioned a vanpool, so maybe that answers that; but maybe there’s existing paratransit specifically for the driving-disabled. Either way, get this person out of your automobile!)

Thanks for the validation, Kim :slight_smile: I’m always afraid I’m overreacting or being too sensitive to this woman’s callousness and stupidity.

I’ve tried to think of ways around this carpool, but I’m in an awkward situation. I work in Salem and live in Dallas, a small town about 18 miles away. This lady is convenient because she lives a few blocks away from me and works in my building. My car, a 1998 Dodge Neon, isn’t new-new, but compared to her 1985 Ford Tempo, it’s a Cadillac right off the showroom floor. Her car is prone to frequent breakdowns, is as unreliable as she is, uses twice as much gasoline per month, and always reeks of oil smoke. Letting her drive me to work in my car and splitting the gas seemed like a win-win situation. But she’s so obnoxious, ungrateful, self-absorbed, self-righteous, and arrogant that suffering her company is torture. And, of course, she assumes she has the right to use the car during the work day. I’m terrified to tell her what I really think because if I piss her off, she can still drive herself to work in her little crap car, but I’d be SOL.

She’s the only co-worker that I know of that lives in Dallas. Others live in the surrounding towns of Falls City, Monmouth, and Independence, but they have no desire to carpool (sniffs pits do I offend?).

My husband works in Dallas, just a couple blocks from our home, so it’s quite a bit out of his way for him to drive me to work, then turn around go back to work himself. Plus, he works 10 hour days, I work 8. I don’t think I’m physically capable of working 10 hour days and he wouldn’t be allowed to work 8s, so we’re not in synch.

My mom works in Salem, but she lives in Sheridan which is about about 15 miles from Dallas, though Dallas is on her way so she can swing by and pick me up in emergencies. But our schedules also differ and I know it’s inconvenient for her. I can’t take advantage of my mom.

There is a handicapped shuttled that goes through the whole Salem, Monmouth, Dallas, etc., area, but it’s schedule is also wonky. To be at work by 7:30 or 8:00, I’d have to catch it at about 6:00 AM. And I’d either have to catch it at 4:30 PM to be home by 6:00, or catch it after 5:00 and be home by almost 8:00. I can’t figure out if there’s just one bus servicing the entire area and making a giant loop or what. But I’d be spending most of my day at work or on the bus, and working either unusually long hours or short hours to accommodate the schedule. It’s just weird. And it wouldn’t even take me to my building. It would drop me off at the bus station downtown and I’d have to get on a regular city bus to get to work. And the bus stop is a ways down the street from my building and there’s no sidewalk because this is an industrial area kind of on the edge of town. I tried this exactly once and it was such a nightmare I swore never again. I’ve pretty much talked myself out of this idea.

I can’t see getting rid of the car; especially, as you can surely see by now, Dallas is fairly remote and we do need it to visit family or go shopping or when carpool partner poops out on my and hubby has to drive. I’m not real familiar with the average rate of taxi fares, but a nearly 40 mile round trip every day sounds like it would be pretty spending to me.

Of course, my co-workers, therapists, and mother have their own suggestion: move to Salem. But I don’t want to give up my home just because of work. Especially since in another 5 years or so I probably won’t be able to work at all anymore. [Kicks feet, waves fists, wails at the top of lungs] It’s not fair! It’s not fair it’s not fair it’s not fair!!! [Takes deep breath, smoothes hair and clothing] That feels a little better.

So, unless this vanpool thing works out, it appears to me that evil bitch carpool partner has me by the short and curlies, and I think she’s fully aware of it. Life sucks.

Every week at least one person says, “Gee, must be nice only working 4 days a week.” That wouldn’t be so bad if it weren’t said in a tone that suggests I’m getting over. Fuckin’ bastards!

And one more time.

Im salaried and take occasional time off to get personal things done. I get this comment a lot too, well Kiss my Ass is what I say now.

At least you get a fucking personal life and can make plans. I have to get up at a moments notice at least one weekend a month to fly to some back water ass airport to deliver an aricraft part so another fucking plane can fly. Then I have to wait around (this is if I didn’t have to deliver it right to the fucking maintenace people who are god knows where in this fricking back water with maps designed by a demented 11 y/o. Then I have to sit around and wait for a flight back home.

On top of all that, it’s your fault I had to do this, if you’d have gotten off your ass and fixed it earlier I would have had to do it in the first place. It could have gone Fed Ex. You hear that customer screaming at me on the phone you jackass. And by the way, why don’t they have your home number, why the fuck should they call me in the middle of the night bitching, when you haven’t met your schedule.

Oh and by the way assholes, NO ONE WANTS TO HEAR YOUR STUPID ASSED VOICE MAILS. Just becuase they gave you a speaker phone doesn’t mean I want to hear it.
Ah relief

Oh, and I signed up for our local “ride share” program, but in the last 6 months I’ve gotten exactly 2 calls and they both worked weird schedules and/or wanted me to drive. :stuck_out_tongue:

I shouldn’t complain. My hubby, as I said, usually works 4 10 hour days. However, for the last few months everyone has had to work mandatory overtime, ie, 10 hours every other Sunday. Because of some recent family financial snafus, he agreed to work every Sunday to bring home a little extra dough. Today he just e-mailed me to let me know that, because of co-workers’ upcoming vacations, he was told he must work one more day a week. I’ll need to get a clarification from him tonight (or he can post it here), but it sounds like he’s saying he’s going to have to work 6 10 hour days a week for the next 2 weeks. Is that even legal??

Zette said:

Oh Zette, you just made my day! I am so going to say that next time someone starts in! Thank You.

stuffinb said:

stuffinb, I know what you mean. I am on call every third weekend and every thursday. Granted, I don’t have to fl out, but I have tobe at the hospital in 30 mins or less for any “emergency” study they have. I think I’m going to get a job at McDonalds.

I’ve tried telling the person, “You know, I can hear your voicemail, and I wouldn’t want to accidently overhear anything personal …” and he just laughed and said he never got personal calls at work.

Yes you do, bucky. I’ve heard 'em!

I guess what I was trying to tell him went whooshing right by.

I don’t know the law where you are, but I have a friend who works 60-70 hours a week as a lifeguard. She gets time and a half for anything over 8 hours a day. So as long as they give him whatever is legally appropriate for overtime I don’t see a problem with it. That said, I’m not in your position and don’t know the entire deal. Good luck anyway.

“Is that legal?” was a dumb question. I’ve been in a Union too long :stuck_out_tongue:

I don’t want to sound like an asshole, but I would love to work four ten hour days, and no, Democritus, I don’t think you’re getting over. I just hope sometime in the near future someone thinks to let you have a good long vacation for all the fifty to sixty hour weeks and the time off you didn’t get.

Having said that-

Getting back to the OP

I always wonder about people who have time during the course of their busy days to notice that you’re taking thirty seconds of slack time here and there. Can they be doing their jobs if they have time to spy on you?

I used to work in the warehouse of a music store that did international shipping business. Whenever the girl who was in charge of the foriegn orders had a huge ten or fifteen box three hundred item order to ship to Japan or somewhere, she would always ask me to check it, because the other two order checkers were total screw offs.

We kept a count of the orders each of us did,every day, and they would always accuse me of slacking because they would do a hundred and fifty orders to my hundred each day, and they’d really bitch if I only did forty orders on a day when I had one of those monster orders I just told you about. The thing is, they would grab up all the small orders, little boxes that would maybe have a couple of boxes of clarinet reeds in them, while I pushed around the sixty-pound boxes that would contain three saxophones that had to be taken out of their cases, to be inspected, plus the assorted accesories that went with them, sometimes ten or fifteen items to a box, and if there was a problem with an order, I would actually take the time to make sure it was fixed, while they would just push problems off onto somebody else.

When we got the paperwork back for the orders that had been returned with mistakes, they would each have twenty or thirty mistakes each week when I had two or three, because they were so sloppy doing their jobs. It cost an average of twenty dollars, between the price of the products, the man hours it took to fix each mistake, and the cost of shipping. Which means that it was costing the company twice each of their paychecks each week just to fix their mistakes.

I finally got tired of putting up with their bullshit and asked to be transferred to the packing department. Of course, their mistake rates went down, at least on paper, because I would catch the mistakes as I was packing the orders they had just checked.

Eventually they were both fired after a number of complaints from other coworkers that they were being uncooperative and generally harassing people on the job.

Me, I was always too busy working to notice if someone else was screwing off.

If you look at some of my posts from a long time ago, I wasn’t always this “evolved”. I used to have absolute shit fits over those comments. This method, I’ve found, leaves me feeling like a million bucks, and the work monkey will have a look of shock that you’ll wish you brought a camera in for!