I think I mentioned Tuesday that I am stressed out at work, right? It’s because it’s the fiscal year end and they (The Company/boss whores) try and cram more work than we do 11 months out of the year into 1 month and expect people not to lose their shit. I knew September was going to be crazy when I was trotting around in May being all “Fralalaaaaa… I have nothing to do! I’m better than you!” And everyone was laughing behind my back being all “Heh heh.. she’ll see!” I see, ok douchers, I see.
I broke it down to see how much time I need to spend in each “area” I am responsible for to get all the work on my desk done:
Emails: 1200 minutes
Transfers: 750 minutes
New Accounts: 30 minutes
Budgets: 60 minutes
Financial Reports: 1650
Total: 3690 minutes OR about 62 hours.
So if I worked for the next 2 ½ days taking no breaks and not sleeping I could get all of my work done, that is assuming that I don’t get any additional transfers, emails, financial reports, etc… which is about as unlikely as me finding a husband tomorrow. Especially considering the due date is September 28th for all this crap, and I will get about 10 X this much coming in on September 27th alone. I hate everyone!
If I hadn’t been such a slack ass facebooking/blogging/googling the missing instead of working for the past 2 months, this predicament probably wouldn’t be so bad. But! Since everyone I work with is old and slow I still have less work than them, yesterday my bosses were all, “Praiiiise Gizzy, since you’re ahead of everyone else we need you to train the new girl, The Lesbian.”
Ok, ok.. I’ll train your lesbian, but you just tell her to keep her eyes to herself, mmkay? Before we get a bunch of hate mail, I am totally down with the gays, Lucky and I were Kevin Yang’s #1 fan before he deleted his blog/wordpress kicked him off. I’m not entirely sure what happened there, I just know that my sweet rambling gayness is gone forever, Ellen is my homegirl, you get it.
So, despite what the bloggy may lead you to believe, I don’t really like to talk to people who aren’t my friends. I’ll do a little hey how ya doin, or a short 1 or 2 line convo. But after that I can all I can hear is myself talking (and yes, I’ve suddenly taken an interest in acting? I know, I think I’m bi-polar too) and I just think I sound weird, and quiet, and raspy, and a lot of people have told me that I have the voice of a porn/phone sex/900 number lady, and that really creeps me out, but I guess if I really want to work from home that’s an option? So I’m just not big on talking, and having to train someone means I have to talk, like a lot. So I was not looking forward to this. I made notes so that I could run through the training 1 time, give her the notes and be done with it. But she had all kinds of questions and wanted examples and just really ruined my plan.
Just when I’d start to feel a little bit comfortable with my training rambling and could hear myself talking in the 900 lady voice I noticed she was looking at my boobs, and then I remembered that she’s a lesbian. Yep! Awkwaaaard.
I shifted around in my chair and pulled my cardigan closed holding back my tears. Don’t get me wrong here, I had on a full coverage dress, but I have big boobs so they stick out and are pretty noticeable no matter how much I try and cover them up. As I was sitting there fidgeting wishing she would just go away so I could crawl under my desk and cry, I looked down and noticed that the dress I was wearing that has a weird angle slit up the front (it might actually be a bathing suit cover up, or pajamas? Thanks Target, for not making that clear) was positioned so that the world could see my underwear. I mean there is a good chance she didn’t notice because my exposed underpants were under my desk and she was too busy checking out my boobs, but just the thought of it gives me the willies, as it would if this happened with anyone.
When the training was finally over I texted Anth, “There’s a good chance I showed The Lesbian my underwear today.” he replied, “HAAA! I knew it!” So he thinks I’m a lesbian? I replied, “Not on purpose, jerkoff.” Then I explained the situation, and he proceeded to tell me not to jump to conclusions because she hadn’t asked me to be on her softball team yet, and I’m not really the type that lesbian’s are attracted to anyway so I needed to get my panties out of a twist, literally.
At this point in my life, Anth has now told me that I’m not the girlfriend/wife type and now I’m also not the type lesbian’s are attracted to either. So what’s left… being a cat lady or a nun?
So I don’t know, things might be weird at work today. I’m either going to have to call in sick or wear a mumu.