So we’re moving offices next week. And the new office is supposed to be CLEAN and I mean clean, so there are supposed to be no papers on desks. Like, ever. I feel so bad for the people who are supposed to clear checks. How are they going to do that? And my papers are neatly stacked on my desk. Now they have to be locked in a drawer. Also, no food, beverages, or anything else edible at your desk. No coffee. No caffeine.
I give this three weeks, at the outset.
This sort of thing really gripes me. Some executive has a wet dream about the perfect-looking workplace, so that the furnishings become more important than the people. Fuck that with a rusty broom handle (or something).
Cognoscant, I wouldn’t even give it two weeks. Seriously: no water even? Not even in a non-spillable container with a lid? Pfffttttt …
Ten days, tops, I say now.
My coworkers and I have the theory that the reason the company-provided fruit is on the other end of a very long building is so we don’t get fat from eating it: the walk is so long it compensates.
For the last couple of weeks that same breakroom was our only source of drinking water. There have been jokes that the renovations weren’t any such thing, but actually a plot on the part of EHS to make sure we all walked more.
If we’d been supposed to have drinks only while in the breakroom, it would have been a very full breakroom!
I thought the no coffee thing got shot down with a bazooka several pages back?
Heh, that’s the part where I would enjoy being me.
Papers on the desk, open can of pop, mug full of ice and pop…
And a smile and a laugh at any idiot who tried to tell me it wasn’t allowed.
Threats answered with a smile and a hearty “Go fuck yourself”.
Irrelevant answer - not really, I’d only want a paid job in this shop, as it’s my comfort spot. I’ve volunteered there since it opened, it’s walking distance from my house, I know all the managerial staff, volunteers and regular customers, and know all its ins and outs pretty well. Any other shop would be a mystery to me!
Relevant answer - apparently volunteers count as internal, according to a drunken manageress on a work’s night out last night 
Blergh. Some people should never be allowed to microwave fish. Also they should be the ones who have to take care of finding a fan, airing out the hall, and hosing everything down with deodorizer. But of course someone else always has to clean up the stench. It’s never the stench-maker. Our fish burner is more the type to say “Oopsy! My bad! Tee hee!” and not do a blessed thing to fix the problem she created.
My evaluation is tomorrow. I hope I still have a job by the end of the day. I hate evaluations with a fiery passion. Now we have to do a self-evaluation, which I will rate myself very highly on, so that might not be so bad. The rest will be hell on earth. But by the end of the day it will be over and I won’t have to go to work again until Monday morning, so that’s good.
Well, that’s hopeful! Extremities crossed for the duration.
Good luck on your evaluation. I still haven’t got the CEO’s portion of mine that was due back in April, and he lost my line manager’s portion.
And if you did something like that, you’d be in big trouble, wouldn’t you? I hate how as a peon, my work has to be better than my supervisor’s. And we don’t get to evaluate them. :mad:
I’m off the hook for now. Something came up, so we’re rescheduling the evaluation. I need to do some serious heavy-duty meditation so I can stay calm when she’s listing all the different ways I suck.
Thank you! I’m still applying for any and every library job that comes up within travelling distance too 
Someone sitting near me is giving herself a full manicure, including fresh nail polish. This is in a corporate building, open floor plan, etc. etc.
Way to show off that you have nothing to do.
Why am I hearing crying children? I should not hear them - client interview rooms are sufficiently far enough away from my office. Unless a worker stupidly brought a client back into the employee area or they brought their own child back here - both heavily frowned upon.
I’m tired and cranky today, have no desire to see clients. Please send “stay away” vibes my way, please and thank you.
Mother of all thats holy and bright- I have really started to think my coworker is insane. Not crazy in a charming, off kilter way- but seriously nuts. I have noticed for while that is statements don’t quite mesh with one another - he will say one thing and the contradict himself angrily a moment later. If I “challenge” him, he goes just a wee bit ballistic. I try not to “challenge” him but something about his nonsense draws me in, He blatantly lie, and i feel compelled to ask him to clarify.
I’m starting to worry about my safety. I think he’s become unglued.
You mention that he’s a coworker. Does this imply that you share a boss with him, to whom you can register your concern?
Whatever the answer, please take care of yourself and be careful.
Well, quite. He’s notorious for this sort of thing (losing stuff that he’s supposed to deal with), and for not following up on his side of tasks in general. He’s also notorious for flipping his shit and various other unprofessional behaviours, but no-one on the Board cares enough to hold him accountable for his behaviour, and the people who can’t tolerate it just end up leaving. Which I will do as soon as I find a viable alternative, which will be difficult. This job pays well, gives me a day off midweek so I only have to work two days in a row before I have a break, and I have a goodly amount of flexibility in how I arrange my day, all of which would be hard to find in another position I’d be qualified for.
I hear you about the meditation thing. I’ve been rehearsing in my head what I will say and do if he flips his shit at me, which would happen if he found out I was trying to find a better home for my project. He would take that personally rather than thinking about what’s best for the project and its clients (and me, but that’s beside the point). He likes me, so it hasn’t happened so far, but if he starts shouting at me, I will tell him we can continue the discussion when he’s capable of doing so in a civil manner, turn, and walk away. If he touches me in any way, such as grabbing my arm to stop me leaving, I will go straight to the police.
He’s already been warned about manhandling his employees, especially the female ones, and seeing what he does when he thinks he’s being funny, I wouldn’t put it past him to do something like that in a moment of anger. Just knowing it’s a possibility adds immeasurably to my stress and anxiety. I have to wait at least until I’ve finished the comprehensive project report I’m working on (to shop around for future funding) and until after my coworker comes back from HER stress leave* before I can in good conscience get a note from my GP and collapse at home for a while, hopefully forestalling a nervous breakdown rather than as a result of it.
*This is the second stress leave I’ve witnessed (that I know of) since I came on staff a year and a half ago. The first one was my line manager herself, in response to a serious dustup (involving He Who Must Be Obeyed, of course) that occurred just before I arrived, which culminated in two employees leaving shortly after I arrived. Not a good sign altogether.
I’d love to work in a library, but I don’t have any kind of relevant qualification, other than being personally extremely organized and methodical myself. Never got a look in to any kind of library position I’ve ever applied for.
So I recently “celebrated” one year of employment with my terrible company, a corporate chain of retirement homes. As part of commemorating the astonishing fact that I’ve not yet been fired or become so aggravated that I quit, I was handed a letter from the Regional Director of Operations.
"Dear Mister Rik:
It is with great pleasure that I wish you a Happy Anniversary on your employment with [company]. It was just one year ago August 25th you joined the team!"
Okay, so far, so good. But then …
“At [company] we are committed to resident satisfaction and ensuring the safety, happiness, and peace of mind for all who reside at our communities.”
Um, wait, who wrote this? This is supposed to be a personal letter from the RDO (holy crap, those are my initials!) So the second paragraph of this three-paragraph letter is … a fucking advertisement. It would appear that my congratulatory letter for surviving a full year with this company was written by the Marketing department.