Tag Archives: i hate my boss

Office politics a no no

Tis a Sunday for a weekend post.  I slacked off on Friday and didn’t post but I need some advice like rull bad so thus – a weekend post! Hooray!

I didn’t get up at 3am to watch the Royal Wedding like Lucky did, but I have been catching the repeats all weekend.  I don’t envy Kate Middleton as much as I envy Harry’s girlfriend Chelsy Davy.  Will is the guy we all know we should like because he is straight laced and a gentleman, but bad boy Harry is just so freaking cute.  And still on the market.   Lucky, switch up our trip to Italy for London?

This whole Royal Wedding thing has made me take a look at my own life though, I just loved the ceremony and all of the traditions they took part in.  It was so formal and not at all American which is why it screams class.  The fact that they waited until they got to Buckingham Palace before they even had their first kiss is just precious.  I want that.  But it’ll never happen, because I’m American and in America if you’re not all over your new spouse at the wedding people whisper and think you don’t love each other.  Ughhh…. eff this country.  Anyway, in honor of the holiday and from now to eternity please refer to Lucky and I by our Royal names honorably given to us by E!’s Royal Name generator:

Princess Gizzy Arabella Ingleshirecott of New Yorksburgh and Dame Lucky Tildsley De Sotocock of New Yorkport

But, on to my real problem: work.  Things seem to be getting easier every day, I’m still learning a lot and hate pretty much everyone I work with but I feel like I get a hell of a lot more than anyone else accomplished and I’m almost to the point where I can sit at my desk and google fun things until I get an email of someone asking me to do something, then I can start working.  

So there’s this part time lady, we’ll call her Corned Beef.  There are 4 other people that hold the same position I’m in, and a few years ago Corned Beef was one of us, she wasn’t at my desk but when the guy who sat at my desk suddenly got fired last year everyone pitched in to pick up the slack until they hired me 9 months later.  Corned Beef only works 2 days a week so she misses a big majority of the drama that happens with our accounts while she’s not working.  The past few weeks she’s been working on these reports basically to make sure we’re all doing everything correctly.  She had come to me about a few things that I was putting into the system wrong, I took note of it and we all went on our marry day.  Until Friday morning when I got to the office and saw she had sent this email Thursday night:

Hi Gizzy,
Since I know you bring your lunch I wanted to ask in advance if you would like to go for lunch next week.  I have a few things that I have found that are work related that I want to discuss with you and would prefer to not do that in the office.  Don’t be afraid…..there are things that I have found while doing the exception reports that I want to go over with you and some other office politics items.  I must admit that going through those reports is down rite mundane, but at the same time very enlightening!
I don’t know if you have been to the cafeteria for lunch, if not they have a big selection of items and the food is good, but expensive.  Consider lunch on me, since I am inviting and it will be considered part of training.  Let me know if Tues. or Thurs. is better for you.

Corned Beef

I know what you’re all thinking, Gizzy you’re such a tool that email is not bad at all she is trying to help you, which is exactly what Anth and JM told me when I got home Friday night and made them analyze it with me.  But, I am pretty sensitive to any kind of criticism when it comes to my work, I take detailed notes on EVERYTHING and ask a lot of questions and take work very seriously because if something goes wrong I am going to make sure it wasn’t my fault – to the point where I have a hard time making friends in the office (as you can clearly see by now.) People always tell me that I’m too serious and need to take a break and go outside and get some fresh air.  Uhhh no, because not taking breaks means I can leave half an hour earlier.  And that’s what this is all for, so I can come home and lay in my bed.  Seriously, once I have all of my student loans paid off and buy myself a new car I’m quitting my job and getting one where I only have to work 15 hours a week that just pays my rent and utilities.  

But anyway, Cocktails At Tiffany’s readers this is where I am reaching out to you.  What do you guys think this email means?  Did I fuck up so badly that she has to take me to lunch to tell me I’m about to get fired? Is she trying to shit talk Cigarello because he taught me how to do everything wrong and doesn’t want him to hear? What are the office politics about!? They’ve already told me there’s not much room for promotion so they don’t expect me to stay more than 2 years, so how could there possibly be office politics involved at all? I don’t talk to anyone so I’m not manipulating people.  This all just seems so weird to me.

Lucky did some analyzing with me Friday morning while she was at her work retreat, and I told her that I don’t think the lady is trying to be malicious or rude because she’s really my only friend at the office.  But, I don’t understand why it needs to be taken outside of the office when we have conference rooms and empty offices we could easily talk in.  Lucky pointed out that it’s inappropriate that she’s taking it outside of the office, and I agree.  Especially if she’s going to tell me I’m doing a bunch of things wrong, I understand not wanting to embarrass me in front of anyone else, but I also feel like if I’m doing things wrong my boss needs to call me into her office to talk to me about it, not someone who is there 2 days a week and who is essentially below me and one of my assistants on our work totem pole.  

The “lunch meeting” is on Tuesday, so bring on your thoughts.  I need to prepare myself for anything that could fly my way Tuesday afternoon.

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I wish I had a PIMP right now.

Yesterday started out seemingly normal, I got to work an hour after every one else and got twice as much work done in the time I was there, nothing too out of the ordinary.   Right before lunch I felt it.  The beloved cramps that mother nature brings us lovely ladies every single god forsaken month.  Any male readers/women who are confused about their gender that don’t want to hear about my period should stop reading now.

So, I start digging through my potato sack of a purse to find a tampon and come up with nothing.  I go out to my car and look, nothing. So now what? I knew I had seen some of those dispensers in the bathroom with quarter tampons so figured I would just get a quarter and buy one of those.  I didn’t have a quarter so I had to take the long way around the predicament and gathered up all of the nickels and dimes roaming free in the bottom of my purse and headed down to the soda machine to insert my money and then hit the change button, it gives you quarters every time! I know I’m a genius, you don’t have to tell me.

First, I went into the unisex single stall bathroom so that I could purchase my tampon in peace without having office rumors flying around about how Gizzy was caught in the ladies room buying quarter tampons out of the dispenser.  I placed my quarter in the little slot and turned the oh holy crank as far as it would go and it got stuck.  I practically ripped the dispenser out of the wall trying to get the effing tampon out and it still didn’t work.  I decided my options were to face my demons and either go to the public ladies room to buy a quarter tampon or to buy a quarter pad, “napkin” as the dispenser and I like to call them, out of this private dispenser.

I chose the public restroom, hoping that no one would see me.  But of course I didn’t have another quarter so roaming in my purse I went again.  Finally I was faced with tampon dispenser #2 and…The. Same. Thing. Happened.  Ok! “Napkin” it is.  Nope.  After literally spending $6 to try and get a tampon or “napkin” out of every dispenser in the building I decided I was going to pick the lock on the dispenser in the single stall unisex restroom.  Why not right?  I sure as hell earned my fucking quarter tampon.

**Q & A Intermission** – I know what you’re all thinking…

Q: Gizzy! You’re so stupid, why didn’t you just ask someone for a tampon?

A: I’ll get to that later on in the story

Q: You nerd tard, why didn’t you just go to a CVS, they’re on every corner?

A: Because I work in the heart of the ghetto and I would shove an empty toilet paper roll up there before I’d venture out in the ghetto and risk getting shot, mugged, and raped.

Q: Gizzy! You’re a woman, every woman knows to have back up tampons in their purse and car.

A: Normally I do, but I used all of those last month when I didn’t know Aunt Flow was on her way and forgot to replenish my stock.  WHICH, will never EVER happen again.

Q: Ok, you’ve made your point, quarter tampons were your only option, carry on…

So I was finally able to pick the dispenser lock and what to I find? An empty dispenser and it appears as though that jank as dispenser has never even seen a tampon or “napkin” a day in it’s fricking life.

I stood in the unisex single stall and started to weep.  I wept because I am too old to be in this situation but mostly because I really wished I had a PIMP.  Oh, how handy a pimp would’ve been.  Granted I would’ve been washing my PIMP out in my office sink, but still, it’s the thought of never being tampon/”napkin”less that matters.

Now my options were to ask all of the women in my office for a tampon/”napkin” or make myself a diaper out of toilet paper.  I tried the diaper thing once in 8th grade when I went on a weekend vacation to my friend’s parent’s friend’s house because I was 13 and embarrassed that I started my period and forgot my “napkins” (back when I wore them) so when it was my turn to shower I turned on the shower and dug through the bathroom cabinets to find materials to make a sturdy diaper for myself.  Really? Could I be any grosser? I was 13 seeping sweat and nastyness as it was, didn’t shower, and then I wore a diaper for a weekend.  I just…have no words.

Anyway, the diaper idea was out for obvious reasons.  Even though I already knew the answer from every woman in my office would be NO they don’t have any tampons or “napkins” I can have because they’re all 15 years past menopause I embarrassed the shit out of myself anyway and asked.  As embarrassing as that was now every one was going to know I’m the one who broke all of the sanitary supply dispensers in every bathroom in the building.  I saved my boss for last because she is the youngest and my only hope and if she didn’t have one I was going to have to ask to go home.

I don’t think I’ve ever explained how my boss is a cold hearted, snide, weird, scatterbrained, freak.  Well she is and I was really hoping someone else could help me out so I didn’t have to drag her into it but alas I walked into her office with my tail between my legs and told her the situation.  “Well what do you want me to do about it?” She said.  So I didn’t even ask if she had one, I just asked if I could go home.  She said I could on 1 condition… I had to use my vacation hours.  Awesome, I’ll do that, and I’ll never come back you wretched whore.  I was gone for like an hour and a half so it’s whatever.  But, the lesson I learned is that maybe having a PIMP or two hidden under the spare tire in my hoopty wouldn’t be such a bad thing.  Something to ponder…

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