Tag: mondays

Case of the Mondays

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Holy shit, my Monday has been rough. It started out like it was going to be all good, to lure me into its trap. I woke up before my alarm and petted my precious Jack Jack for a minute. I needed to be on time today for testing that they wanted me to come in for on Friday but I couldn’t (cause Mr C had minor surgery and was high as fuck so I had to husband-sit). So I was rolling to get there quite easily ahead of time.

I usually get in at or slightly after 8:00am. Today, I arrived easily at 7:25. Fuck yeah. That’s in major rush hour traffic too, which I apparently usually don’t have. And just as I went to swipe my badge, I realized I did not have it. Fuck me. So I had to come home to get it. Then, right as I pull in my drive way and hit the bump, the tire pressure light comes on. Gahhhh dammit.

So I go back to work and now it’s 8:15. Fucking rush hour! It never takes that long. So, at work, of course nothing works. Because that would be too easy. Nope, everything’s broken. You said that because we only had one computer that works this one specific task, it would inevitably break, and you’d just laugh ’cause you told those fuckers they better fix your computer. But you’re not laughing, you’re just fucking pissed because it’s MONDAY.

Then somehow this megadumbass doesn’t invite you to a very important meeting. The kind that must be done in person once each year or you lose your super special privileges. So now you have to make it up next Monday. The Monday you were going to stay home in the morning to watch the super important milestone first launch of the SLS to the moon with your husband. The launch yall had planned for years to go see in person but now Mr C doesn’t wanna go. Fuck it all. I’ll just go to this meeting instead. Not that they’d really take away the privilege that only two other people in the building have. I’d love to see that. Ha. But you don’t mess with security. Every office has their politics and at my office, they’re the mean girl club. So you don’t shake that particular boat. Even though they’re stupid bitches. For the record, they’re stupid bitches.

Ok, my car makes it thru work without going flat. That’s something. I’ll get groceries then swing by the gas station for air. Only the air pump is out of fucking order. THANKS. And the other gas station only takes quarters and you don’t even have cash. AHHHH. It’s ok. I’m cool. I’ll just get a car wash and use their air pump! Only apparently, they don’t have air pumps! Those things you assumed were air pumps are just air guns to spray you the crevices of your car. But now you’re trapped in the god damned line so you can’t get out. Guess we’re washing the car now.

If you have pressurized air guns at a fucking car wash, why not just make them tire pumps? Like one or two? Just one? No? Fuck you.

I have a headache and it’s not even over yet. I still need to go out to the garage and use the car powered pump to put air in my tires and hope it’s just a slow leak and not that I ran over something. Cause my car doesn’t have that fancy technology that tells you what tire and how much pressure it lost, it just has a indicator light that looks like a flat tire. It’s like me, goes straight to panic mode.

Fuck Mondays. I need a tylanol.

Just “Average”

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Man, what a rollercoaster! Mondays, am I right? Like a shovel to the face.

My workday started out average. I’m actually finishing up one chunk of work and moving on to another. So, yay. Always good to close something out. Then I had a follow up job interview at 1:00. As in, a follow up to Friday’s interview. So great news, I’m getting offered the job! A verbal offer was made and a written one should be on the way. Nice. Nice. Day’s looking up! I told them I’d be out for December on medical leave so we settled on January as a possible start date. No official offer yet and no official acceptance yet. So riding high on that was nice.

Then a few hours later, I see that my boss called me to his office when I was doing the interview. Okay, whatever. So after a little juggling to find him when he’s actually in his office, I go see him. He wants to talk about team dynamics. So we talk about team dynamics. DeBitch hates my guts. He comments that I don’t speak much in meetings. Yeah well, DeBitch is gonna either shoot me down or talk about me behind my back so I’ve learned to just shut the fuck up. I really don’t like my job and it’s just a paycheck. I’ve been riding on waiting for the next contract since the job started.

He asks about the fact that our team had been seen as the most cohesive – which is bullshit, it NEVER was. So he asks if I came into it this way. Hell yes it was already broken before I got here. DeBitch hated E too and that’s one reason she wanted to bail – and she did bail. And T is apparently for Toxic. Everyone talks about everyone behind their backs. DeBitch hates a third of the team and all of the team hates T. T also happens to be the LEAD. There’s never any positive feedback or pats on the back. It just sucks. Sorry you’re so out of touch as management that you didn’t realize that. You’re part of the problem. Congrats!

Anyway, so then he wants to talk to me about what the team thinks of me. Apparently, I’m on my phone too much. That one is pretty weird. I do pop out to my phone during lunch because everyones crunching and I can’t take that noise, so I duck out to text Mr C and dink around. But it’s lunch, I should be able to do that. I also duck out a lot for medical-related calls or my lawyer. I work in a closed lab, so we have to leave the lab to use our phones. And unlike some other cubicle assholes, I don’t like to talk on the phone in the cube farm and disturb 20 people around me with my business. In fact, I never use my cube phone. Unlike DeBitch and Dwarf – both of which I know WAY TOO MUCH about thanks to their phone calls. WAY TOO MUCH.

So I don’t participate enough and I talk on my phone too much. Apparently, I’m also just an “average” worker. He wants to know if I’m ok with just being average. Fuck yeah I am. Listen, everyone doesn’t get to be above average – yall don’t know how fucking math works. Work is just a paycheck – it’s not my life. I’m not gonna bust my chops for a job I hate, where I’m hated, which pays 20k less than my last job. Average is excellent. He even asks if I see my job as “just a paycheck.” Isn’t that most jobs? Even all jobs for some of us? You think I’d be here if it weren’t for the paycheck? Fuck no I wouldn’t. I mostly kept calm and polite and quiet. Then I went to wash my lunch bowl out and ponder how pissed
I was about this conversation. So I went back and told him I’m not gonna speak up in a meeting when DeBitch is just gonna talk about me later. It aint that deep for me. And if the team doesn’t think I’m good enough, then feel free to put me on a new one. I like most of my team, but I won’t be upset if I’m traded. Trade my ass.

And I’d love to talk to K2 about this. But K2 is also my new lead and honestly, I can’t tell if anything we talk about inside or outside of work is as a friend or as a lead now. She knows I hate my job and am actively looking for a new one. But boss man says multiple team members had these opinions of me. So is she one of them? Should I tell her I got a new job coming? It really sucks because I adore her, but when she asks how I’m feeling is it because she cares or because I’m not working fast enough?

It sounds like I’m being extra because she’s my friend, right? Well, earlier in the year when I was falling apart over moms death she came to me to help me get along on my work. I thought she was just a sweetheart, but no – she was directed to by douchebag T who couldn’t talk to me himself.

I’m codependent, yall. I always think people only like me as long as they can get something out of me. And she did kind of desperately need a hand earlier and of course I offered because I adore her and would totally be best buddies. And we’re gym buddies, I guess, and we work together, so who’s to say it’s a real friendship at all and not just of convenience and colocation?

I need the new job now just so I can figure out my fucking friendships. Jesus, I’m so confused right now.

I live in “Office Space.” My boss literally asked me if I’m “okay with being average.” If you want me to wear more flair, Stan, raise the minimum flair!