Ok, lady. I came home and I gave myself a chance to calm down. It didn’t happen.
I used to like my job, as far as jobs go. I enjoyed going in every morning, and I didn’t spend Sundays dreading going to sleep because I knew the next day I’d have to deal with you. With no other job or boss have I seriously wished for a broken bone over the weekend so that I wouldn’t have to walk in that door on Monday.
Now, let’s get a couple of things straight. I am an exempt employee. That means, I don’t get paid overtime because it’s understood that at times the job will require extra hours, what with traveling, year-end, things like that. Fine, I can handle that. But I’m not going to stay sitting on my ass in the office just because you think that we’re supposed to put in extra time every day regardless of whether or not we actually have work to do that requires staying longer.
I also work flexible hours. Another definition: I may come into the office anytime until 9AM, and the departure time is adjusted accordingly. This was a major selling point at this company-after 4 years of required 10-6 work hours, I enjoy being able to get up early and get home early. So, does my working 7-4 hurt you? No, because I’m getting all my work done and then some. Plus, if you tell me that I have to stay until 5 every day, don’t expect me in the office at 7 every day unless there’s a damn good reason for it.
And finally, I think the way you’re treating my coworker is absolutely the shittiest thing I’ve ever seen. We know you feel like he’s a threat-you’ve done this in other departments with anyone you think is better than you at the job. Let’s get this straight: We’re all better than you at this job. Two of us have decided to slide under your radar as much as possible. You’re going to lose your entire department, quickly. My bet is by the end of the summer, the end of September at the very latest.
Let’s see how well you do then. Cause your shit isn’t going smell any sweeter than ours no matter how long you stand around admiring it. You’re creating a fuckup that no amount of brownnosing will fix for you, and you’re not going to know how to fix it.