Rumor has it...

This email from Hastifah was waiting for me when I arrived at work this morning:

I just heard the dumbest thing that I have heard as of yet today. [Co-worker #1] was over here and asked me, “I heard from two people down at the other end of the office that W (Hastifah's and my supervisor) said you all cannot say ‘hello’ in the morning because it’s unproductive.” Do those fat asses have nothing better to do than make up the dumbest stuff in the world?

Apparently, they do not. Now I cannot waste anymore time on this post as it may seem "unproductive" to someone, somewhere, at some point in time.

Now we know why she's so bitter.

My dear Bitter Assistant sent me the following email today, while she was being bitter at her respective office and I was being trampy at mine. My heart went out to her -- after I finished laughing my ass off.

From: Bitter Assistant
Sent: Wednesday, February 08, 2006 1:40 PM
To: Office Tramp
Subject: so gross

My cube mate lit the nastiest silent fart and then left the room before she could see me react.

It was so foul. I saw the potato chip bag wrapper in her garbage can and wanted to barf.

And of course, because we are adult professionals, she doesn’t mention it or anything. I had to open a window and turn on a fan before I could go back to my workspace.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHH.

Wasting Time 101

Want to know the most effective way to waste your supervisor’s time? You nominate everyone on your team for an award, that’s how!

In my office, we have these awards called “Caught’cha Awards” where if someone “catches” you doing something helpful, nice, or beyond what your normal job requires, then that person can nominate you for one of these awards. One of the mouth-breathers on my team took it upon herself to nominate EVERYONE - even those of us who almost go out of our ways NOT to be helpful, nice, or to go beyond what the job requires of us. My award was for “making a pleasant and friendly work environment.” I know, I know. Close your mouth.

It’s a nice gesture, I suppose. I mean, letting your co-workers know they are appreciated is always a good thing. I guess. But isn’t the point of getting an award that you do something exceptional and special? Isn’t getting an award just because you happen to be on a certain team kind of...NOT special? Especially when about 8 other people got the same exact award as you? Maybe I’m a little too cynical.

What’s stupid, though, is that all of the supervisors in the office have to sign these. Like they don’t already have enough to do: between the email crackdown and the promoting cave trolls... they’ve got enough on their hands besides signing a billion awards for people who totally do not deserve them (like me).

You want to know how to get on MY good side in the office? Mind your own business and leave me alone. See? “Pleasant and friendly work environment”? She clearly has no idea who I am.

It's Nazi Germany All Over Again

In an American office, the rules are always changing. Sometimes it’s for the better (wearing flip-flops is OK), sometimes it’s for the worst (Cy gets promoted). And sometimes, it’s so ridiculously bad that it’s hard to believe that this is reality and not a poorly written sitcom.

In my American office, there are four units, and I must say that I have been lucky enough to be working in the unit with the coolest supervisor. She says swear words, goes drinking with us, and takes time to show you the cool mac and cheese flavored popcorn seasoning someone got for her because she knows you love mac and cheese. The other supervisors are those who get the horror stories told about them: being reprimanded for being one minute late, for micromanaging, for just being bitches in general. They are such bitches, in fact, that they MAKE their employees sign in and out by email when they are arriving at or leaving work for the day.

Well. Word got around that my unit doesn’t have to do that. So some whiny kiss-ass from another unit goes to their supervisor and tattles, and then that supervisor goes to the Big Boss and Big Boss decides that to be fair, EVERYONE must start emailing their supervisors when they show up in the morning and when they leave at night.

I realize that a lot of offices use this system. In my previous position my supervisor required me, when I worked alone on weekends, to email my stats to her at the end of the day, which I took to mean that a) she wanted to make sure I didn’t skate out early, and b) she wanted to make sure I was working while I was there (I didn’t do a whole lot but I did some). But before I tell you WHY this upsets me, first let me add this:

Today management instituted a major crackdown on internet use/emailing on work time. In our unit meeting, we were told that we needed to not be on email or surfing the web unless we were on break. Because while management realizes everyone NEEDS a break and likes for us to have fun, we just can’t do it on company time. A “friendly” email reminder was sent out later in the day (sidebar 1: one of my co-workers who comes in in the afternoon and missed the meeting emailed me when he got that and asked, “What’s with the new Gestapo-style policy? What did I miss?”) stating once again that we were not to be on email or the internet unless out break signs were posted. (sidebar 2: I, of course, immediately emailed Hastifah and said, “They said the signs had to be posted, not that we actually had to be on break.” And then I forwarded the email to some other friends who don’t work here. See how well I listen?)

I understand this as well. While I am definitely guilty of using company time to chat with friends through email or look up info about and photos of other cities I’d like to move to, I am certainly capable of understanding that it is probably wrong and that I shouldn’t really be doing it. What I don’t need or understand, however, is co-workers who make it their business to monitor what everyone else is doing and then narcing to the Suits. But who would do such a thing? Someone who tries to kiss ass and be friends with the management. Someone who takes this job a little too seriously. Someone, probably, who brings an empty suitcase with them to work and is on the verge of going postal any day.

The infamous T, otherwise now known as the Tila Monster and T the Big Blue Ox (because of an oft-worn very large and very blue sweater), is our prime suspect, of course. She is a known tattler and I believe very strongly that she is behind this sudden tightening of company rules. I can’t quite figure out why she has made it her mission to become the Office Police. Adventure? Excitement? A true Office Tramp craves not these things. The Tila Monster has to be stopped.

Hastifah’s solution to the whole thing? Have T drawn and quartered, and then plant her impaled head on a spike outside our cubicles so the next person to take her place knows not to fuck around. The horror, I say. The horror.

Email Exchange #1

The following is an email conversation that took place today between myself and my friend/former co-worker, J. Productive day? Depends on how you look at it.
****************************************

How was the meeting?  Did you get a lot accomplished, or maybe get publicly scolded?

OT: I actually got an award.  But it was nothing special because some brown-noser nominated everyone on our team for this dumb-ass award.  It was for ‘making this a pleasant and friendly working environment’ and I sat down and told Hastifah, “She doesn’t know me at all.” 

Wow, how could somebody be so wrong about you?  But either way should frame it and put it up in your cube at work, just to give you a daily reminder of what a wonderful employee and coworker you really are.

OT: I’m way ahead of you.  I taped it up so everyone can see that I am, in fact, not only a worker but a GOOD worker.

Are you all in the new digs in the mall yet?

OT: We’re still stagnating in the bank, but it’s fine because I have my window and I can monitor all the traffic in and out of the new cereal bar across the street.  I’m not looking forward to the mall move, I’m comfortable here in my little space and am reluctant to change.  Plus I fear not being close enough to a printer that I can get up and grab stuff without taking my headphones off like I can do now.  I will have to request a seat within 9 feet of a printer, because I think that’s all the longer my cord/tether/leash is.

What they should do is accommodate you with a luxury cube that comes complete with it’s own printer, mini refrigerator, microwave, and stereo system.  And you should chain yourself to your desk and refuse to leave your current spot until they give into those demands.  Now that you have an award certifying that you are a wonderful employee you should have enough leverage to pull this off.

OT: I want a massage chair too.  I wonder if they’d spring for that.

I’m sure they would, especially if you could find a way to claim that a heated massage chair is a medical necessity.  My office supervisor has stashed a small, three level wooden shelf thing in my cube and asked me to move my file cabinet stuff onto the shelves so that the file cabinet could be used by somebody more important.  I’m trying to be happy with it and I like to pretend that the fake wood glued to this thing brings an element of nature into my sterile work environment.

OT: I have one living plant that’s doing quite well and one dead plant I’m pretending will eventually come back to life one day.  And my Crazy Cat Lady action figure.  Oh, and my rubber penis pencil topper Hastifah got for me.  My cube is quite personalized, actually, which I have to do because otherwise I’ll probably just slip quietly into a coma of boredom and no one will notice until my productivity numbers start to drop (and that actually might take a little while).  Then they’ll try to fire me but realize I’m a vegetable and then just roll me out the window and slide some other poor sucker into my place.

Sometimes I wonder how long it would take for somebody to notice if I just fell asleep in my cube…

OT: Sometimes I wonder if I fell asleep at the library if anyone would notice I didn’t come back from lunch.  A couple weeks ago Hastifah woke up late and called in at like 9:30 and the supervisor was like, “I didn’t even realize you weren’t here!”  That shed a whole new light on things.

Discipline, Tattles, and Lies, Oh My!

I heard a story today about discipline. One of my co-workers - Ack, actually - was talking to me and Hastifah on our break today and she told us that last week she got called into Big Boss Man’s office along with her direct supervisor (A) and was told that she was being given verbal discipline for constantly being late. Ack was taken by surprise, as apparently she is NOT always late but is quite on time. (Hastifah said, while Ack lumbered off to get a soda and some chips from the convenience store nearby, that Ack is in fact often late but who really cares anyway? We’re all grown ups.) Ack claimed she had proof of her non-tardiness because every morning when she arrives to work she has to run a report for her work that day, and on that report it shows what time it was printed. So, in a righteous act of defiance, Ack produced her reports and threw them in Big Boss Man’s face and demanded an apology from A. I don’t know if she ever got it but I guess the important thing was that she was right.

Apparently, however, there was some tattling going on. T, of the Suitcase Caper, allegedly breathed word of Ack’s tardiness to the supervisor, which led to Ack being indicted merely on hearsay. The supervisor had no proof of Ack’s alleged tardiness besides what she was told by T, who has obviously taken it upon herself to be the police/mother figure of the office and make sure everyone shows up on time and does their work. T has also recently tattled on Hastifah and myself for leaving patient information on our computer screens when we leave our desks to go to the bathroom or whatever. Which, I might add, is a) none of her business, and b) who the hell cares because we’re all working for the same Man and we all have access to thousands of patients so what does it matter if someone leaves the info up on the screen?! It chaps my hide, I tells ya. I guess she IS right, there IS this little law called HIPAA about patient privacy and all that, but who really pays attention to laws?

What’s kind of funny is that T shows up and leaves whenever she feels like it, and there have been many a-times when I’ve looked over my shoulder and seen T on the FOX News website when her break sign is clearly not displayed. I, of course, am the last person in the WORLD who should be judging people on this activity as I am guilty guilty guilty when it comes to non-breaktime web surfing. But, if T is so worried about everyone else, maybe she should be a little more discreet about her own indiscretions.

Sometimes I hate my job. Other times, I am completely amused at the ridiculousness that goes on in my office. Today, I felt both.

further suitcase musings from today...

Hastifah: Have you ever seen "Falling Down" with Michael Douglas? It’s pretty good...it’s about this man growing nuts by the second and he starts out with carrying an empty suitcase and eventually goes apeshit and starts killing people, that and put together with your posit on T being insane carrying around an empty suitcase, hmm…

Office Tramp: Holy shit, you’re right! T even kind of looks like Michael Douglas, with the glasses and the haircut… We’ll have to keep an eye on her and note any suspicious behavior.

the mystery of the suitcase

One of my co-workers ("T") has started bringing one of those suitcases-on-wheels with the pullout handles to work with her everyday. She also claims to be a good God-fearing Christian but wears these cheap high heeled boots that look like something a prostitute would wear. Below, Hastifah and I analyze the suitcase, the boots, and divine intervention.

___________________________________________________
OT: WHY THE FUCK DOES SHE BRING HER LUGGAGE WITH HER TO WORK EVERYDAY?!?!?!  Dear god, I hate that woman.

Hastifah: I have no idea, but I am really tempted to ask.  M said that she and K were talking about that the other day, what the fuck does she keep in there?  I think that she does it to look important, like I’m traveling to Iowa City to work because I am so important.  Maybe she is afraid that some of us crazy liberals will kidnap her and she wants to be prepared with a fresh change of undies, who knows?!?  She’s a total nutjob! 

OT: I love how T leaves her cell phone and palm pilot on her desk all day, like she wants to show them off to everyone.  You don’t need that shit out during the day, WTF??  I get such a kick out of people who take this job so seriously.

Hastifah: Why in the world would T need a palm pilot???  To pencil in all her church appointments and good deeds for the day???  Yeah, from what I can tell, K thinks that she’s a freak too.  Oh, hey, did T stop working out at lunch, I thought that may be the reason for the suitcase, to bring her threadbare t-shirt and nasty sweats, but I haven’t seen her change or anything in a long time.  Hmm…

OT: You know what would be even funnier?  If her suitcase was EMPTY!!  And she just brings it b/c she thinks it makes her look important but really it makes her look insane.

Hastifah: You are brilliant!  Now we must find out what’s in there, I would ask her if I wasn’t afraid that I would bust up. 

OT: I almost asked her earlier why she brings a suitcase but I chickened out.

Hastifah: I know this is probably a dumb question but have you seen Real Genius?  Do you remember when they set up Ken by implanting a microchip in his braces and then talk to him pretending they are god?  We could try that with T, implant a microchip in her suitcase (assuming it’s empty, which it is) and then we can start conversing with her as god, what do you think?

OT: I have in fact NOT ever seen Real Genius but it sounds like something we could easily fool T with.  We could try to get her to do all these crazy things and see if she does them b/c she thinks god is asking her to.  We’ll be like, “T, go kick Big Boss Man in the balls with your hooker boots" and she would probably do it thinking she’d get some divine reward.

Hastifah: “T, God wants you to jump out of the window, now do it!”

OT: “T, go get Office Tramp and Hastifah some beer and then take the blame and say you forced it on them so they don’t get in trouble!”
___________________________________________________

Rest assured that the Mystery of the Suitcase will be solved. Hastifah and I have already started planning strategies for further investigation that include but are not limited to dropping a container of strawberries into one of the unzipped compartments and then fishing around for it, asking her why she brings the suitcase, and hiring someone to follow her and see if she takes anything out of it or puts anything in.

To be continued......

The Evil Reign of Cyclops

Despite protests from co-workers who allegedly threatened to quit if The Worst happened, it happened anyway. Yes, The Worst. In other words, Cyclops is in pseudo-charge now, and it will all be downhill from here on out.

Here's the story in a nutshell: There was an opening for a promotion in my particular department, available only to those of us who currently worked there. Six of us applied. At least two of us, myself and Hastifah, applied not because we really wanted the job, but as an attempted preventative measure to thwart the Evil One’s grab at power. The job would have been boring and actually quite tedious and annoying, but it paid more than we currently make, so that would have been a bonus. The supervisory aspects would have been fun, too. But when it came down to it, I was applying merely to keep others out.

It didn’t work, of course. Cyclops emerged from her cave about a hundred years ago and started working for our department and is the most qualified in our particular realm. She has the technical know-how for what we do, but does not have the people skills to deal with other humans properly. (Back up -- I mean, she doesn’t have the people skills to deal with humans. By saying ‘other humans’ that would imply that she is a human herself and not a dwarfish troll-monster with a lazy eye.) She is the kind of person who likes to make it known just how knowledgeable she is about her particular job, and if you have to ask her any questions, then get ready to feel stupid because she will try her damnest to belittle you and make you feel as though you are imposing on her Very Important Job. (Which in fact is NOT important, she does the same thing I do, essentially, and we are nothing more than cogs in a wheel - our supervisor even says so. It’s uplifting.)

Cy’s reign of terror has not officially begun, as she has been training so far this week and hasn’t taken over her duties yet. I can assure you all that this will be an exercise in futility and the true test to see how far I can take it before I jump out the window.

This will be an ongoing issue. Unless, of course, I jump out the window.

* * * * *

And now, a brief email exchange from earlier today between this Office Tramp and pal/special guest star "Tyson" from "San Diego":

"Tyson": What if Cy really had only one eye in the middle of her head?

OT: I wish Cy did only have one eye in the middle of her forehead, then there wouldn't be confusion about which one is her good one and which one is her wonky one.  I never know where to looks I just try to focus on the nose.

"Tyson": You shouldn't make fun of lady with bad eye, considering your flaws... ha ha ah ah ahah ah ahah ahahahahahahahaaahahahhahahahah

OT: I make fun of her for more than the eye.  I do it b/c she's an awful person who likes to make people feel stupid and belittle them b/c she hates herself and doesn't know how to deal with it.  I, however, am a good person.  Except when I, you know, make fun of people with wonky eyes.

the professional attitude

Overheard a person in my office say this, apparently some fable/truism/excuse to be an ass-hole:


"The Dog follows the rules.
The Lion tries to crash through the rules.
The Eagle soars above the rules."

"I am not a dog -- only the stupid people end up as dogs. They don't get anywhere and struggle all the time. I'm going to learn how to be an eagle. Other people can be the dogs."

---

I pondered this nonsense for a couple hours. Our culture promotes this thinking and often rewards it, along the lines of "laws are made so we learn how to operate around them".


Too many people assume they are Eagles. I'll throw my Dog-Turd at them.