I’m getting old before my time.
The paper is stressing me out, the impending move is stressing me out and everywhere I turn, I find something to stress me out.
But I’ll figure it out.
I need a fucking massage. You could hit my back and shoulders with a sledgehammer, and they couldn’t possibly hurt any more than they already do.
I was pissed off because at work, we found that Cruise Director blatantly lied to us. He stressed that, during budget cuts, our leadership really took a big hit and canceled a huge (costly) meeting, reducing their two annual meetings to one. But when the president was in my office today, he referenced the fact that I should really cover those two meetings. I quizzed him and said, “Oh, there are two?” and he said sure, there are always two and will continue to be.
That really irked me. So, essentially, we were fooled. And we found it rather odd that we were not given handouts of the PowerPoint presentation on the budget … and now we know why, because it was FALSE!
What else has we been bamboozled about?
Had a lovely chat with Susan, much of which revolved around another fucked-up workplace … the one I left before coming to this one. Incoherent Twit finally quit and is gone, and Susan bet her annual salary (to HRP’s sister) that if Twit had left a lot sooner, I never would have left. Not only that, but that I would raised a shitload more money than Twit ever could have (because I was a damn skilled and competent fund raiser).
The Twit story was like a Candyland board. Apparently she applied for welfare benefits before she was done with the job, and she also filed for unemployment. I never heard of someone who put so much effort into wasting time. When Susan got a call from the welfare office, she informed the gal that, actually, Twit had some serious vacation pay and medical benefits coming to her through the end of July, and the gal said that she’d heard a very different story.
So then, Twit was talking to Excoriated White Boy (oh, how I miss him!), saying that she planned to collect unemployment for six months, until she felt like going back to work again. She said she planned to sit around the house and enjoy it (note that she just bought a house and now has no income to pay for it). Muahaha. Like Tiff said, would you really quit a job when you have a mortgage to pay?
But then again, Twit was banking on the social liberals to fund her life of leisure. Hah! I’m so glad I don’t pay taxes in her state anymore — I’d seriously have to file a complaint. And cry. A lot.
God, we really miss Excoriated White Boy. Tiff and I just waxed poetic about how friendly and truly caring he is — he’s the type of guy who, no matter how badly HRP had excoriated him, would put on a genuine smile about you and ask how you were doing. Not only that, he would remember something you had told him that was happening in your life or that you were working on, and he would ask very detailed questions. He made you feel like your activities were truly important and interesting. Susan, give him a BIG hug from us Virginia girls!!! 😉
In Twit’s resignation letter, she claimed she was quitting for emotional reasons. I’d joked several conversations ago with Susan, asking, “What? Wasn’t casework agreeing with her?” Whereupon Susan said, “Apparently, work wasn’t agreeing with her.” The Two Strikes crew, after two years, finally realized that she had no talent in fund raising or communications, so they moved her to a lower-paying casework job that actually required her by law to visit families and do paperwork. Gaah!
They found out that the so-called registered nurse on staff (who provided nursing services and medication monitoring) is not, in fact, a nurse. At all. Christ, I raised a lot of money for their clinic, and a lot of it was contingent on the medical personnel. They’ll be lucky if, after their audit on Tuesday, that they won’t be asked to reimburse the foundations. But they have bigger problems — with the last two months’ of paperwork being undone and the concurrent firing of Non-Nurse, so we won’t mention that possibility to them. Sssshhh. 😉
I had a great interview with someone today about when employees are about to go postal. Nobody intervenes when people are becoming frustrated — so they get more and more frustrated till they explode like a Zambelli fireworks display. Like my interviewee said, quite intuitively, “People are getting really tired of sacrificing their lives for their jobs/employers, when, inevitably, their employers can and will sacrifice them.”
That last part is something I want you to read again and again. Don’t make work your life. Don’t let it spill into your personal time (yes, I know, I’m the worst offender). Get your cackles about work, like I do (of course!), but don’t give up living and enjoying and spending time with people and at places you love. Because, as long as you work for someone else, it truly does always pay the same.
And to hear that Solitaire, Town Crier and everyone who works with them got a 4 percent raise — when I am doing three jobs and only got a 3 percent raise — really burns my toaster strudels. What, are they going to give 4 percent more effort, or is it that they only GIVE 4 percent effort? Perhaps, then, I should only give 3 percent effort myself. One of these days. Just not today. Or this month. 🙂
So, Shan and I have yet another business venture — a relocation/welcome wagon/career coaching project. We want to help people to relocate to D.C./NOVA. Whaddaya think? I think it’s viable. But then again, who the hell has time to do anything besides the job that’s actually (albeit barely) paying the bills? 😉