Uncategorized

So, in my first weekly meeting with the boss since the meeting where he had his panties all in a wad about the freakin’ picnic, I was informed that due to concern about the flu, I will be responsible for sanitizing all workstations every week.

That’s right, kids, I get to go around and clean off everyone’s phone, mouse and keyboard plus wipe off all “shared” surfaces (breakroom I do everyday anyhow) like doorknobs and the like.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I understand that the flu is serious business and we don’t want people getting sick and then coming to the office so we all get sick, etc. But this is an office of grown, college-educated people. Are you SERIOUSLY telling me they can’t go to the breakroom, grab an a cleaning wipe and wipe their own mouse, keyboard and phone? Oh, right, these are the same people who cannot wash their own coffee cups or put a soda into the mini fridge after they’ve taken one out to drink (except whomever drinks the Maximum Overload Cola who decides that THE WHOLE DAMN FRIDGE needs to be filled with his/her soda).

And I am guessing that the theory is that having me touch all of the equipment that is allegedly all germy won’t make me sick because skullery maids have some sort of super immune system. I’m of the mind to get some Thieve’s Oil and whip that shit on them… I know from personal experience that Thieve’s Oil is da bomb for all things that antiscepticizing. I mean, it’s based on a formula that thieves used to use back in the days of the freakin’ Black Plague. They’d rub themselves down with this stuff to rob the bodies of the dead and somehow manage, through the antiseptic properties of this oil concoction, to not contract the plague themselves. So, hey, Swine Flu… BRING IT!

Have I mentioned I won’t be sad to move on from this job?

Today was supposed to be my first meeting with Bossman since the morale-killer meeting (I can count on one hand the words he has spoken to me since), but I got another reschedule request today.

I am not looking forward to tomorrow and the meeting that will probably happen. I have the sneaking suspicion that he keeps rescheduling because he’s waiting to hear something from someone up the food chain (like the Big Boss Man getting his medical bill after the “way too much fragrance incident).

Will let y’all know what happens. Way past bedtime now!

I did some major cleaning at work. The thing is, when I clean no one ever seems to notice (because I don’t let things get out of hand in the first place, mainly) so I decided to make an impression and use heavily scented products to clean with. Which, ya know, would have worked fine if my co-workers didn’t have allergies (and weak immune systems because they sit at desks all day and then go home at night and sit in front of the computer…. and… oh for the love… I just described MYSELF)

Anyhoo… my effort was noticed.

Just wish that there wasn’t the threat of dire consequences attached.

In other work news… my boss has stopped speaking to me. While the peace and quiet is nice, the feeling that he’s looking for a reason to fire me is not so nice.

Would write more but I’m exhausted.

Weekly meeting with boss started with the phrase “So… how do you like working here…?” (which, believe me, is never a good sign.. in fact, it usually is a phrase you hear just before you AREN’T working “here” anymore.)

I was correct in my assumption that my boss was not “disappointed” at how the company picnic went… he was PISSED RIGHT THE FUCK OFF!

Now… the morning of the company picnic, I’d woken up @ 4am with a migraine. I was not well. I went out shopping in the crowded, whiny-child-infested hell of a BallzMart, then to the picnic site. The ONE picnic shelter was occupied. Great. I had something like 20 plastic bags full of food, table cloths, etc. plus jumbo paks of plates, cutlery, etc. plus 60 fricken pounds of ice, a cooler and two huge bags of charcoal.

The people using the shelter left….right about the time that people started showing up. One of the Perfect Wives started harping on me right away about why wasn’t everything already set up and how it was so tacky that it was a potluck and blahblahblahblahBLAH.

I was trying to get all the stuff from my truck to the shelter (could anyone be bothered to help?? Nooooooo….) I started setting things up and got an earful about how I hadn’t gotten enough food or enough ice or enough table cloths… blahblahblahblahBLAH.

I’d wanted to be HOME by 3:30, but people didn’t even get to the picnic site til 3:15ish… I left about 4:15.

Wellllll… today I got told that “EVERYONE” had gone out of their way to tell my boss I was nonstop complaining and bitching from the moment that they arrived(untrue) and unorganized (didn’t have everything all set up when people got there) and how AWFUL and UNFORGIVABLE it was that I LEFT (and they had to Cllllleeeeaaaannn uppppp…..). Add to that the complaint that there were no decorations, that things didn’t look nice, couldn’t I have gotten balloons or some small bouquets or something? Oh, and that I share a vehicle with another person and had to go was “not his problem” and I SHOULD HAVE freed up my day “for the team”.

Then he launched into how I had ruined the whole experience for everyone (keep in mind that I was gone pretty early on… so if they didn’t manage to have a good time, that’s my fault HOW?), that his whole “team building” effort that he’d worked a year on and this was supposed to be the crowning glory of was all “at least seriously set back and possibly at a point where we are back at square one” and that the whole team felt extremely negative toward me (really? gee… guess what? I don’t think the negativity towards me came from the friggin’ picnic)

Boss then starts in on how the breakroom isn’t being kept pristine and that the floors should be vacummed every couple days and the conference room isn’t pristine and that I obviously am not “focused on the TEAM” and how my life needs to stop during working hours so I can be “focused on the team” and checking in with them to see what they need and what they want and I need to be totally disassembling, cleaning and reassembling the espresso machine AT LEAST once a week. And that I need to “LISTEN” to what that team wants. That I need to spend time chatting with them. Well, ya wanna know what they all bitched about regarding the FORMER person in my position? “All she did was stand around chatting or go out shopping…”

Now…. this is the “team” that regularly goes to lunch without a word to me. Yet, *I* am the one who “isn’t focused on the team”

I worked for an extra 1.5 hours on a Friday and 4.5 hours on a Saturday for which I will NEVER get paid for this disaster. Not to mention all the time and planning that went into it and I did it all MY FUCKING SELF. Not to mention that the Other Half was pissed that I didn’t just blow it off altogether AND I heard nothing but negativity about it from “the team” before it ever happened and got not even one THANK YOU. No, I just got to hear about how my “constant complaining” ruined it for everyone who attended. (For the record… I said NOT ONE WORD OF THE VERY BITTER COMPLAINTS THAT WERE IN MY HEAD!)

So… basically, they want to pay someone $pittance an hour (NO OVERTIME) to do everything from washing coffeecups and vacuuming to doing Project Management to, apparently, being Dr. Friggin Phil and making sure everyone is happy all the time, to doing all of the supply purchasing and maintain the wiki AND you need to be an event planner (and be able to plan and execute everything ALL BY YOURSELF) and to do this you need to work 50 hours a week but you’re only going to get paid for 40 no matter what… and you have no vacation, sick time, or benefits of any kind. Your co-workers all make in excess of $100K a year and most treat you like something nasty they found on the bottom of their shoe.

Now… out of all of this, you know what stings? That part about not “being focused on the team”… Let’s see… if you recall, I bought both real mayo and miracle whip for the picnic, because I know some people ONLY like REAL mayo and some ONLY like Miracle Whip… I made sure to include hotsauce because I know that some team members like really spicy food/hot sauce… I got not only the hamburgers and hotdogs I was told to get, but I got brats, too and had even thought to ask if anyone needed a veggie option (the closest anyone came was that chicken would be their request, which I accommodated). I’ve done shopping on weekends and do shipping after work because I want to be available during the day in case someone needs something (big complaint about previous person was that she was never in the office). I’ve bought donuts with my own money. When we have visitors and I am sent to fetch lunch, I NEVER put MY lunch on the company card. I bought both regular and baked varieties of chips in case there were calorie counters in the group or those concerned about their fat intake. I buy Truvia for our “lo cal” sweetener because it’s a stevia based sweetener and is better for you than Aspartame. I buy three different types of coffee beans for the espresso maker and blend them so “the team” can have the best espresso experience possible (while keeping an eye on the budget).

And, ya know what? I was, until today, a little sad I’d be leaving this job. Not anymore… I’m countin’ down the days.

Currently, I work in a small office–14 people plus 1 “Skullery Wench”. There is one other female and she’s the lab team leader.

My duties are to make the coffee, clean the coffeepot and espresso maker and wash all the coffeecups. Seriously, it was a HUGE HAIRY DEAL in the interview that I knew how to make coffee and understood it was going to be my job and also that I knew that all cleanup was my job. But they also want me doing Project Management. So, basically, they pay me $pittance an hour to be everything from Project Manager to Skullery Wench. My contract had been scheduled to end July 31st and it was this big ordeal to get Corporate to approve an extension. Nevermind that they pay me only half of what they’re paying the agency for me (I know this because I had to write up the Purchase Order for my own contract). And I work assloads of OT and cannot submit for any overtime (on the plus side, when the company closed for a long weekend (3 work days plus weekend) and I didn’t work, they let me submit 40 hours, otherwise I would have had 3 unpaid days). I keep the breakroom stocked, order all supplies and equipment for our location, am the local person who handles all of the HR paperwork (Corporate is in Non-US), do all of the shipping (which we have to take to the FEDEX location since our company rents space in another company’s building), am in charge of getting badges for all staff and visitors, making sure the heating and cooling is ok, making sure that the people who gather the trash are doing their job, vacuum the office when there is a mess made, take and distribute minutes for the weekly meeting and am sent to fetch lunch and dinner for the “regular” staff from time to time as well as coordinate breakfast and lunches when we have visitors. I have to give my boss a report every week of what I did the previous week. (Basically, I have to justify my existence on a weekly basis).

They give me a company cell phone (which I seldom use. Previous person in my position gave out the number as her personal phone number and ran up $700+ a month in calls for her last 2 months). And I have a purchasing card so I can get all the supplies and stuff.

I get no vacation time, no sick time, no benefits. And it took me 6 months to find this job. For a pretty small town, there is a HUGE hangup on only employing people who have college degrees, which I do not. I am not willing to go into further debt for a degree… I already have more debt than I can pay off in my lifetime.

One of my recent assignments was to plan and execute “The Company Picnic”. On the day of the picnic, I got a later start than I should have. EvilMart was packed with preggos and hellspawn (and maintained their corporate mandated quota of rednecks and women in tubetops who have no business going braless). I think I got way too little food.

The picnic was populated by The Perfect Wives (seriously, it was like they were all just slightly different versions of the same woman…. same basic body, hair, voice… I honestly think that they all just bought a kit and did minor customizations) and me being a) a divorcee (gasp!) and b) having no babiez I was a big neon FREAK FLAG in Perfect Wife Land.

I woke up the morning of the picnic with a migraine… shopped at friggin’ Evilmart… had to get sixty fucking pounds of ice by myself and then had to schlep all the crap to the picnic site. And first whiff I got of the charcoal file wracked me with waves of nausea, so I cut out… but I am sure they think I am a huge failure as a party planner but, ya know, here’s the deal. I don’t DO “outdoors”. I am allergic to sunlight, charcoal grilling makes me ill. There were allegedly going to be 24 people there (mix of kids/adults). I got :

24 hamburgers (the Perfect Wives frowned at Frozen Patties… oh the horror)
16 Beef Bun Length Hot Dogs
24 Bratwust (Beer Brats, Stadium Brats and Cheddarwurst)
3lbs chicken breasts (mainly because our employee from India doesn’t eat other meat)
Buns for the above that require buns
2 fifty-packs of assorted bagged chips
Assorted “tubez o’ nuts”
Assorted paks of cookies and crackers with cheese and crackers w/peanut butter
Real Mayo
Miracle Whip
2 kinds of BBQ Sauce
Yellow Mustard
Spicy Brown Mustard
Louisiana Hot Sauce
Sweet Pickles
Dill Pickles
Pickle Relish
8 Two Litres of Soda
1 Six pack o’ Kool Aid Bursts (blue)
1 Pkg. Capri Sun “Mountain Cooler”
2 gallons Spring Water
Aluminum Foil
2 table cloths
2 pkgs table cloth clips
Cups
Plates
Forks, knives, Spoons (plastic)
Paper Towels
Wet Wipes
Bug Spray
Hand Sanitizer
Sunscreen
Bag of chocolate “fun size” candy packs
Trash Bags
Cooler + 60 fucking pounds of ice
2 Sets of BBQ tools
2 bags charcoal
1 large thing o’ lighter fluid
2 long “fire lighter thingies”

Plus people were supposed to bring something to share. The pre-picnic signup indicated there would be about 16 lbs. of Potato Salad.

In reality:

Perfect Wife with 4 freakin’ kids under age 6 brought… 1 one pound bag of baby carrots

There was a small bowl of pasta salad (brought by the guy whose wife probably said there was no friggin’ way she wanted to hang out with The Perfect Wives because she “had to work”.)

There was a small bowl of bing cherries.

There was a container of 24 mini chocolate chip cookies

And there was a cupcake cake. (It was a ladybug! Oooh!)

I am sure I won’t get so much as a “thank you” because I wasn’t there 2 hours early and didn’t have a gourmet meal all prepared and waiting. And because I didn’t stay and clean up afterwards. And cuz I wasn’t a skinny, model-beautiful Perfect Wife with an Geek Husband (and, for the record, there isn’t a damn thing wrong with Geek guys… I’m all for ’em) and teh babiez.

But now it’s OVER. And my happy ass won’t be here for the “holiday party”.

Dear Deluded Co-Worker,

It has come to my attention recently that you do not understand some very basic principles. First and foremost, let me make it crystal clear that YOU are not my boss. You may think it’s macho to try to bark orders at me. I will even admit that, in the culture of your homeland, it may be expected that you bark orders at a “lowly” female. However, doing so only makes me resent you and will not make your requests get fulfilled any faster.

Secondly, a lack of planning on your part does not create an emergency for me. There are things that take time and you hounding me does not speed things up. In fact, being interrupted to answer your inane questions actually slows things down.

Lastly, on a day I am busy, I may or may not get to your request the same day. Asking me if I have completed your request 10 minutes after you made it when it’s an hour long task and you’ve asked at 4:40 in the afternoon when I am scheduled to leave at 5:00 and have several very high priority lengthy tasks from my actual boss in queue ahead of your requests means you will only be disappointed. I’m doing the best I can, I have a task given to me by my boss on Monday that I haven’t even started yet. Frown at me all you want, it isn’t going to change my priorities.

Not your slave, so dream on,
MsCleanslate

Greetings Clueless Employer,

As you may recall, my friend is attending a family function connected with the death of a family member. My friend is not on “vacation”. As such, it would be proper and respectful for you to NOT CALL and ask, again, when my friend will be back to work when my friend CLEARLY stated in the last phone conversation that you had that s/he’d return on Monday. (I am being inclusive here).

Seriously, what sort of person calls someone attending a FUNERAL to whine about how hard they are working whilst you are away having a gay ol’ time burying your deceased family member? I knew before this that you were a self-centered asshat but, honestly, this really takes the cake.

My friend told you they’d be back at work on Monday. No, they will not take “on call” the second they touch down at the airport. Let’s recall, shall we, how my friend stepped in and took YOUR on-call weekend when you had a family emergency. How soon we forget.

Before you write your next review dinging someone for not being a “team player” and not “realizing we’re all in the same boat”, I would like to bring to your attention that sitting on your ass, at a desk, barking orders and issuing missives is not “working hard” and you are fooling no one. Or at least no one at the local office. I will not go into how your superior “oral skills” may be benefitting you at the corporate level.

You didn’t call in anyone to help when my friend’s co-worker went on vacation, you didn’t call in anyone to help during your little family emergency (when my friend’s co-worker called at 7:30 in the morning in hysterics and needed to be “talked down” from quitting right then and there), so just because you have to, perhaps pitch in and work for a change doesn’t make this a crisis worthy of you calling my friend during their time of bereavement.

Hate & Pinches,
Ms. Cleanslate

Dear CodeMonkeys,

Hi… It’s your Scullery Maid. The one who washes your coffee cups because even though you are all allegedly grown people who allegedly don’t live in your mother’s basements, you cannot seem to wash a coffee cup before there is some sort of science experiment growing in it.

Did you all know I have, in my contract, a restriction on lifting? It’s not because I’m disabled, it’s because the company I work for doesn’t want me getting a friggin’ hernia or throwing out my back. That’s why I usually let you young, strong, male people put the new water bottle on the water cooler. I was hoping one of you would see how EMPTY it was and, ya know, put the new bottle on the cooler. Alas, you seem to be, I don’t know, “punishing” me for something, I guess, because it was bone dry this morning. I broke the rules of my contract and put the new bottle on the cooler because I know I am nothing more than a Scullery Maid and you are all so goddamned important and college-educated that you can’t do one little thing that isn’t in your job description.

Also, I need to talk to you about the mini-fridge in the breakroom. I buy the soda that goes in it. I have a “setup” for how many of which kind of soda gets put in the fridge and make sure that there are always cold sodas available. It is not helpful, then, when one of you yahoos comes along and stuffs all of YOUR favored flavour into the fridge leaving no room for the other flavours. I KNOW you like your Pepsi Max. But, guess what? Only 2 of you drink it. I KNOW you like your Dew but you don’t need to fill the whole fridge with Dew you selfish bastards! And don’t look at me like I just shit on your desk when I actually walk back to my desk with one of your Beloved Mt. Dew’s. I work here, too, ya know! We have two 24 packs of Dew, my having ONE isn’t going to mean you are going to go without! So, don’t act like I’m some sort of marauder pillaging your village!

Finally, don’t think it escapes me that you often all go out to lunch together and don’t invite me. To this I say “GROW THE FUCK UP!” This isn’t High School, ok? Don’t all be coming down the hallway, gabbing away and then get quiet when you pass my office cuz you don’t want me to know you’re going. Have some balls and tell me to my face. I know I am not a high and mighty CodeMonkey like you are. I know I am but a lowly coffeepot scrubbing, waterbottle hefting scullery maid. I’m not asking to be treated as an EQUAL… I AM asking to be treated like a real person with real feelings, though. Or does that not compute?

No Love,
The Scullery Maid