This is all about when a job goes wrong, when corporate America is left to run things with no responsibility whatsoever. Please feel free to comment and commiserate. I'm sure I'll be in need of a co-author to the book this just _has_ to become.

25 December 2005

The Shadow knows

This happened last week, I haven't had a spare minute to share it until now.

Rachel was on the phone with her husband, I could hear her through the cube wall. It's not unusual for us to comment in each other's conversations because you can hardly avoid hearing, but I didn't jump in on this one because she was livid. It was like 4:30 and her husband was obviously asking when she would be leaving. He insinuated that it might be at 5PM since that's supposed to be her workday, which launched a tirade in her. She laughed evilly and ranted about how Rod had come to her 10 minutes ago and told her he wanted the reports done (two hours' work, easily) before she left. And how it was unfair, but she said she'd do her best and Rod stressed that he wanted them despite the fact that she knew he wasn't going to use them for anything for another two days. She exclaimed to her husband that she was going to stay until they were done and that he was only delaying it by keeping her on the phone. They exchanged a firm "I love you" and the phone was hung up in a fashion not hard enough to be a "slam" but not even vaguely a "gentle, loving touch."

Not a full five seconds later, probably not even three, I hear Rod -- in his most Office Space-ish voice -- ask, "Um, Rachel? Um, you're going to have those reports done before you leave, right?"

Oh man. Obviously, I couldn't see what was going on over there, and the audible response was a muffled, teeth-gritted, "yes, Rod," but the flash burns in the upper corner of the room suggest to me that the only reason Rod wasn't killed by Rachel's gaze was that the part of her soul that doesn't want to do jail time for killing him took over her motor control long enough to avert the lazers from her eyes.

That part of my soul isn't that big.

If he would have walked in and had the audacity to ask about what he OBVIOUSLY just heard me shouting about on the phone, I do believe I would have tied him to my office chair and spun him like a merry-go-round while peeing on him before ripping out his tongue and slapping him with it until he shuffled off into the nether.

. o O ( Man, that was kinda vivid...I should probably get my head checked out... )

24 December 2005

And to all a good night.

In October we received a memo that, despite what the handbook says, we will get a day off for Christmas the Friday before instead of the Monday after. Furthermore, no vacation days will be granted during the week between Christmas and New Year's -- no exceptions. Great. We made plans in August for the Monday after Christmas that extended family arranged their schedules for. I might be more understanding if there were any reason I need to be there those dates more than any other, but there isn't, so I'm pissed. I do my best to settle my wife down, I bargain with Franz for a half day on Monday, and I get back to the lunacy.

Fast Forward 2 Months

Two weeks ago, I was given a list of priorities -- let's say it was 10 things to do -- and a due date: December 22nd. No problem. I still have my usual stuff to do, so adding this stuff will be tight, but I can swing it. So I get to work on item 1, and about halfway through Franz comes up and tells me Rod wants to know when item 6 will be done.

"December 22nd," I say with a smile, "when it's due."

"Oh. No," replies Franz, "Rod needs it today."

"Not possible, it's 2 days' worth of work and I wasn't planning on starting on it until next week."

"Well, get some help, and I'll tell him he'll have it first thing tomorrow morning."

So I work through lunch, stay a little late, and accomplish the impossible. Rod has it the next morning, and I'm back to starting item 1. Within an hour, I receive a phantom message from Rod with a list of changes to item 6 that amount to redoing the whole thing, despite the fact that I produced it exactly to his specifications. Then Franz comes over and asks about item 10.

"Well, I have to re-do 6 for Rod because he changed his mind. Then I have to settle some other crisis that IT is having. Then I have to do my usual crap. THEN I can abandon what I'm working on and start the last thing on my list."

"Great," sayeth the twit, "I'll expect it tomorrow morning, then." He then smugly walks off.

You see the pattern, so I'll spare you the details and go to the summary. A week passes, I have like three items from the list done, my normal daily work is now lagging behind, and it's the Tuesday before Christmas break. Franz wants to know where we are on the list and I tell him. "Well, it has to be done before the break, even if we have to come in Friday."

I'm a bit tweaked now. Under my original plan, everything would have been done on schedule, but they rewored things and added projects and generally doubled the size of the whole thing, and somehow never extended the deadline, and now I'm supposed to give up my "break" when I know we won't be any further ahead as a company and I won't be given any recognition, even if I walk on water between now and then? Yeah, I'm simmering, but I'm also jamming, and somehow the day has been fairly free of new crises, so by the end of the day Franz has changed his tune to, "at least we won't be here Friday."

The next day (Wednesday), the fit hits the shan and two more times it's suggested that we [I] will need to come in Friday to make sure all of this gets settled. I'm jammin' all day, plus I'm pissed about the "break" thing, plus the whole "fan fiasco" is going on. I'm angry to the point that I have imaginary fights with Franz in my head about it through my whole hour drive home in the evening.

I decide to be rational. You know what? I wanted Monday anyway, so yeah, I'll give them Friday, they give me Monday. Fair trade, we both get what we need. So I make arrangements with Mason's daycare -- because normal people have schedules that can't just be ignored every time something fails to go as planned, or somebody in China farts facing the wrong way, or whatever.

So I tell Franz I'll be in Friday, but that he has to give me Monday in return. He blankly stares at me like he's never heard of such a thing as staying Friday and says that won't be necessary. "Are you sure?" I ask. "Yes. We're going to be where we need to be by the end of the day, you won't need to come in."

AAAAAARRRRRRRGGGGGGH!

I call the daycare and give them the new update. Then the mad frenzy begins and I spend the rest of the day pissed that I've already changed plans for this stupidity multiple times, the further I go the more it looks like this crap is going to keep me busy enough to have to come in Friday after all, which means changing plans AGAIN, and if it does have to happen, I'm sure he'll wait until after 4 PM to tell me. And none of it's really all that important to start with! Damnit!

I _hate_ these people.

Luckily, it all turned out okay-ish. I didn't go in Friday, and I'm still taking a half day on Monday -- all around, a very Brady ending.

May you have a Merry Christmas and/or a good whatever else you might celebrate this time of year!

21 December 2005

Up, up, and AWAY!


Here's a little vocal treat for you. Thought I'd try something different to give you a tangible example of the stadium fan involved in today's debauchery. Unbelievable. Click the link below to hear my rant. The language is safe for work, but listening to audio at work in general may or may not be.

this is an audio post - click to play

14 December 2005

Got everything / In my mama name / But I’m Hood Rich / La-da-da -- Big Tymers

Remember when we didn't pay the phone bill?
http://tftcf.blogspot.com/2005/08/trouble-in-paradise.html

Apparently some other bills have gone unpaid lately. There's a TV in one of the meeting rooms that's always tuned to QVC so Rod can watch it while he works and make sure no new produc have slipped by him. The TV channels come from a satelite dish, and for weeks there was a message running across the middle of the screen that said something about a late bill and that to get rid of the message they needed to call the provider. Now the message is gone because the TV is off because there is no satelite feed. I thought it was frivolous to start, but come on. If your company can't afford a $50 per month TV connection, it might be time to rethink getting satelite radio in your car. (The pres. just had his "administrative assistant" spend a half day doing that)

Then, I found out that there is apparently trash piling up by the dumpster out back because they haven't paid to have it taken away. TRASH! Come on, man! That's practically a utility. You shouldn't be allowed to stay open if you can't afford to dump the trash.

Should I be worried that last onth's bonus (due today) didn't get direct-deposited yet?