We had an all-staff meeting today. Waste of time as usual. Jackie showed the CNN and Headline News coverage that was generated from our press conference re: sniper/terror anxiety.
Not a word of gratitude, or even acknowledgment, for Shan and me. Everyone loved the HN coverage … because the reporter commented on how the association is across from a gas station and how we had FBI sharpshooters on top of the apartment complex next-door. Everyone laughed when our president responded, jokingly, about how staff had to cope by going to other gas stations that weren’t as easily accessible by the highway. lol.
People thought the reporter was just that good, but I knew, in my heart, that I had equipped the reporter with the appropriate facts and leads for potential questions. The CNN coverage sucked (that was the one that Jackie slipped off to, using Bill’s contacts, without inviting or even telling Bill), but the HN one was my baby, and it turned out more wonderfully than even I could have anticipated. I didn’t need recognition, but it sure would’ve been nice for Jackie to at least acknowledge that the press conference and subsequent media coverage didn’t just drop out of the fucking sky.
He did make me laugh, though, when he announced that “we are on a roll with the P.R. stuff.” What roll? We’ve slid into reverse mode, as far as I’m concerned. Since Yellow-Haired Bitch was so territorial about being the P.R. queen, what is she doing to prove her worth? Shan and I DID start the ball rolling, but we’ve been prevented from running with that ball and therefore, it has been dropped. Splat.
I am convinced there are cameras in my ceiling at work. Yesterday, I heard a sound four different times that sounds distinctly like a camera refocusing itself, like when you pan in and out with a decent Nikon. Finally, I got frustrated and started hurling packages of Ramen noodles at the ceiling. Shan was in my office, just shaking her head at me, and the vegetables in the cube farm outside of my office were peering in, deathly curious. Shan finally dragged me out of my office and forced me to eat soft tacos at Chi Chi’s, just to get me away from the cameras. Mmmm. Tacos. 🙂
And don’t think I ain’t comin’ in this weekend to rip the ceiling tiles apart. I am finding this camera.
At any rate, re: the above vegetable reference — it’s just too politically incorrect to continue calling this place a psych ward, so I’ve decided to call it the Veggie Patch. This came from a delirious moment last night, when I was trying to either say “Veggie Tales” or “Cabbage Patch,” in reference to this joint. Veggie Patch. How fucking appropriate!!! Everyone’s zoned out, beaten down, confused or otherwise unmotivated to do anything but sit and stare at the walls. And when we have visitors, it’s like we’re sitting on the shelf, looking longingly at them, wanting to scream, “Buy me! Hire me! Calgon, Take Me Away!!!”
Or, as Shan and I like to say, “Goodbye, Cruel World!!!”
Ahem.
Shan and I did something that I expected would get us into a little bit of hot water … we met with Bill on Monday. We didn’t (intentionally) bash our employer, but we did tell him that we believe in him and his company, and frankly, we want to be him when we grow up. We offered to help him, on the side, in exchange for a reference or a “success story” when we finally get our own company launched. He’s totally game for it and realizes that it would be stupid to turn us down. We told him that in five years, we don’t want to be here, and that we’re boxed into our current positions — with no way up or out. And with all of our collective skills, we want to keep our minds active and our information current, so if the Veggie Patch isn’t our outlet, something has to be. He told us to generate some plans and we’ll make something happen. He recently went into business for himself, so he knows we want to learn from him. So, it’s a fair exchange for all of us, but it must be done in a way that doesn’t step on Jackie’s toes. Of course, when/if Jackie wants to utilize Shan and me again to supposedly keep the ball rolling (whatever), we’ll jump at the chance, but we aren’t going to die on the vine, waiting.
At any rate, I told Shan that if we work at the Veggie Patch, my position has to be — of course — “Hoe.” 😉