Wednesday, November 19, 2008

My Cage in Hell - A Office Slave Update

I haven't really complained about my coworkers lately, save for the extremely vocal Spanky who is now comfortably installed in an office just down the hall from mine and making more noises every day. His new phrase is, "You've gotta be kidding me" which is paired with an exasperated sigh, followed by some sort of grunt. This process is completed 6-7 times every 15 minutes. Fancy Pants and I have made a game of emailing pleas for help back and forth to each other. We're going insane.

Dusty McFly is on my shit list. Here is the reason why:

Sunday mornings are sacred. It is the day that Big K and I snuggle up and sleep in until whenever we want. Sometimes, I might bounce out of bed a bit early in the summer to bronze myself naked on the back porch with my book. Some days, I might put on Food Network and the dogs will jump on the bed to lay all over our feet. It's a day of rest and relaxation. So, imagine my surprise when my home phone rang at 10:30. I have a strict Do-no-call-me-before-noon-on-Sunday-or-I-will-hunt-you-down-and-kill-you policy that even my mother adheres to. Big K shot a hand out of the covers, grabbed the phone from his nightstand and tossed it towards me. With bleary eyes I read the number off the caller ID. It looked familiar, but in my sleepy haze, I couldn't place it. I answered with a grunt.

Person: "Hello? Can I speak to _______" Totally butchering my last name which is insanely long and impossible to pronounce.

Me: "Mmmmmmmhph. Speaking"

Person who turned out to be Dusty McFly: "Are you still in bed? It's 10:30"

Me: "MmHhh.....What do you want?"

Dusty McFly: "Partner 3 wants to know if you want anything from Starbucks? He told me to call you."

Me: "What?"

Dusty McFly: "I'm just kidding. I need you to tell me how to use the alarm code for the office building. I know you have already showed me, but I forget"

I rattled off the alarm procedure which is embedded in my mind and promptly hung up on him. I was pissed!!!

Big K was pissed too because his peaceful slumber had been disturbed. Now, I had to endure his long, drawn out speech on how I was so underpaid, I shouldn't deal with that shit, and there is no fucking reason that someone should be calling me on a weekend, especially a Sunday with mundane shit. That argument is all true, but I'm a big pussy.

I usually get calls on Saturdays from my guys. Partner 3 calls me every time he thinks of a new idea or if he breaks a nail. I'm use to it and I just deal. But, calling me on a home....this was a deal breaker.

After listening to Big K drone on and on about the lack of respect they have for me ...blah..blah..blah...I walked down to the kitchen to check my cell. I figured if Dusty had tried my cell first, that might redeem him a bit. Nope! No missed call. He had just gone for my home number. He was a dead man.

Monday morning I dragged him into my office, sat him down and told him that the only reason he was to call me at home....on any day....was if he had a valuable appendage ripped off his body, if he was on fire, someone else was on fire, or if the office was on fire. Anything else should be forwarded to my cell. If I don't answer, leave a message. If I declare the request worthy of a response on my Sacred Day of Doing Nothing, I will return the call. These terms were non-negotiable and if not followed I would chop off his balls and keep them in a jar on my desk.

My Monday also consisted of being pissed off at one of the P's (that's one of the partners, but I don't want to identify because they sometimes read my blog. I'll just let them guess which one of them is wrecking my life this week) I sat in my office in a rage, staring out the window making a visual voodoo doll in my head and poking at it with pins. Sometime the P's step over the line just a hair and make my life a living hell with a "grand" new idea. This one is starting on Friday, makes more than I do and will complicate my life enormously.

Another P annoyed me by cancelling a meeting for the third time at 6pm as I'm preparing to walk out the door. Seriously folks, I had my coat on, the lights were off in my office and I was three feet from the front door. I had to go back to my office, switch everything on and make phone call after phone call to everyone involved. This was the third time I had done this and everyone was pissed. They never seem to remember that I'm just the messenger and the rotten P is the guy who cancelled.

I drove home listening to angry rock music, cursing the two P's. The third P is being sympathetic, but I'm still enraged.

"Hello...Help Wanted Ads? Do you know anyone who needs a really intelligent, extremely computer literate, very overqualified employee who has a fun personality, can deal with immense pressure but only wants to work in an all male environment? Please help me!"

I'm just kidding...but I'm still mad. P' need to give me some love....NOW!!!


  1. Can I switch lives with you, PLEASE? Sundays bring a 6 AM wakeup call, the same as every other f'ing day in my life. There is no more sleeping in. I get the don't call me at home thing, my old boss got ahold of my home number and shared it with some people (I was the tech person) and they would always call me for mundane shit. Grrrrr.

  2. People who know me at work know better than to call me on my day off, because I simply just won't answer. If it's important, leave a damn message. It's my day off, damnit!

  3. Casey: I love to sleep in, but it fucks with my body clock. If I sleep in until 11 am, then I can't fall asleep until 12:30 am and then I have to get up a 6am on Monday. Wacks me out!

    Badass: If I don't answer, they just keep calling. I'm convinced that the world would stop turning if I visited some place with no communication.

  4. About 3 months ago I removed the phone from our bedroom. The first trimester kicked my ass and I needed to nap every sat and sun afternoon - but the phone would always ring! Now that I am in the 2nd tri, and I don't require naps, I don't think I will move it back anyway!
    Tell those rude boys they better pay restitution in the form of a spa package (and chocolate!)

  5. Morvey: It's a portable phone, so I have no choice.

    Yes! A Spa visit or something yummy like a big, fat cinnamon bun. That of course, will give me a big, fat ass. Club HASAY would be pissed and Casey will take out at hit on me.

  6. Boys! They're clueless, aren't they? I so wish I could sleep that late any day...

  7. This is exactly why I never answer my phone. It drives all my friends and family up the wall but I will let voicemail pick up and then call back if I think you're worthy enough. Oddly enough, there's very few people who make the cut for a return call. Hotty Hubby, on the other hand, will ALWAYS answer the phone and then act all surprised when I get mad.

  8. Lola: You have no idea how clueless. They drive me NUTS!

    MadWomen: I HAVE to answer the phone. It drives me crazy to just let it ring.

  9. I used to work at a store where I was one of three people who had a key to the front door. The manager would often leave someone without a key to close the store. They would always call ME first because I was the closest and they could be locked up in 5 minutes as opposed to waiting for the stupid manager. My husband had to drive me there many times drunk off my ass because it was late at night on a Fri. or Sat. night. I'm so glad to not be working there anymore.

  10. Here is some love hun! I just wish I could sleep until noon any day. I made it til 10am the other day when I was catching up from the jet lag.