Not the best day at the races
Had an unpleasant incident at work today - can't really say I enjoy being called an 'f'ing bitch' in front of everyone and my boss not saying 'boo' about it.
I had to email an ad proof this morning. Red hands me a slip of paper with the email addy on it. I send it, then 5 minutes later we get a call from the client that they didn't get it. Red's on the phone with them, I can hear her and I'm saying I sent it. She's reconfirming their address. I can hear her saying something different than what she gave me. The number 1 is missing from the end of the name. She puts them on hold, I ask for the address, she says, 'did you send it to blahblah1'? I say 'there was a 1 on that? Are you sure there was a 1 on that,' because I know what she gave me didn't have it, at least that's what I remember.
Tiny segue here - I have a problem reading stuff sometimes. I gloss stuff over. I ask questions on ad copy that, if I had taken a second to breathe and read it over carefully, I would have found right in front of me. It's been a problem for a long time - rushing to get something done and missing the obvious.
So I'm irritated. Did she screw up the address, or was this me screwing it up again by not looking carefully? So I say, and I know my tone was probably snarky 'Tell me it said '1' on there. Tell me it said that,' as I'm doublechecking the email.
'NO TARA, IT DOESN'T SAY THAT ON THERE! YOU DON'T HAVE TO BE SUCH A FUCKING BITCH ABOUT IT!'
I turn around.
'Calm the fuck down Red. I wasn't attacking you. I just needed to know if I made the mistake or not!'
Which was true - I get very irritated with myself when I screw something up like that. She got back on the phone, I emailed the thing, and it was nice and tense for a good chunk of time there.
*breathes*
We're moving to a new office next weekend. It's a two story, yet Blondie wants us all together on the bottom floor (it's an apartment) in the open area so she has access to all of us. It's a little dungeon. No window, flourescent lighting - horrible.
But upstairs, there's this beautiful and spacious room with three windows facing in different directions. There's a white board on the wall - gorgeous! I want to be up there. I want a window. She wants us all together. I say 'hey, how 'bout the two of us take this room, the others can be downstairs?' which makes sense - we're production, they're sales and support (well, Blondie is also sales, but not the point).
'No,'she responds, 'we need to be together'.
'But there's room up here for all of us,'
'No, then we can't hear the door'
...sigh...
Truth is - for all the fun and girl talk we'd have as a group - I'm really just tired of it. I'm tired of listening to Big Red and her incessant bitching day in and day out about EVERY LITTLE THING (and I do mean every little thing - my knee hurts -it's hot in here-i'm retaining water- my daughter was such a little shit - having to hear about her husband's bowel resect nearly did me in). I'm tired of listening to Blondie go through the fitness mags and Victoria's Secret catalogue and saying 'oh, I *hate* her' and 'oh, look at her abs!'. I'm tired of listening to Pocohantas go on and on about her f'd up mother in law and her inability to use proper grammer or enunciate the last part of ANY WORD! 'It's so sof..' 'what did you do this pass weekend..' etc... I'm simply finding that my threshold for dealing with things is dwindling past the point of civility.
I feel like a fucking bitch, but I'm tired of it! These are nice people. I like these people, but I just want to do my job and go home - really. I've learned to not share too much with them, because I know how they talk, and even tho' they may think I'm sharing intimate things with them, I know what not to share. The important stuff... the *real* important stuff. I don't want them to have that kind of access to me.
But I don't know how to articulate any of this to Blondie without coming off like a major bitch or a major buzzkill! I don't want to put anyone into the position of feeling that they need to censor themselves in front of me. This leads to resentment. This leads to dislike, etc. This is one of the drawbacks to having a 'friendly' boss, rather than an assertive one. And I can't go above her - that's the owner, and I'd be bringing down all sorts of hell on everyone, and that isn't fair because I feel irritated.
I want that room on the second floor. I want to be segregated. But how do I get it without having the lot of them talking behind my back? I don't think there's a way - I know, I *know* that Red was venting all over Pocohantas when they left for the store shortly after 'the incident'. I kept my mouth shut with Blondie, 'cause it's unprofessional to snark about your coworkers like that (hypocritical of me considering we did it all the time with someone who's no longer there - she was a nightmare on all sorts of levels). But I usually find it's just better to hold my tongue, and I'm a total pussy - I knew if I said something to her, she'd say something to Red, and then she'd bitch all over me - I'm just tired, I didn't want the confrontation.
This just sucks all the way around.
Donnie Darko: The Director's Cut hits DVD shelves on February 15th!! Why are you wearing that stupid man suit?
I had to email an ad proof this morning. Red hands me a slip of paper with the email addy on it. I send it, then 5 minutes later we get a call from the client that they didn't get it. Red's on the phone with them, I can hear her and I'm saying I sent it. She's reconfirming their address. I can hear her saying something different than what she gave me. The number 1 is missing from the end of the name. She puts them on hold, I ask for the address, she says, 'did you send it to blahblah1'? I say 'there was a 1 on that? Are you sure there was a 1 on that,' because I know what she gave me didn't have it, at least that's what I remember.
Tiny segue here - I have a problem reading stuff sometimes. I gloss stuff over. I ask questions on ad copy that, if I had taken a second to breathe and read it over carefully, I would have found right in front of me. It's been a problem for a long time - rushing to get something done and missing the obvious.
So I'm irritated. Did she screw up the address, or was this me screwing it up again by not looking carefully? So I say, and I know my tone was probably snarky 'Tell me it said '1' on there. Tell me it said that,' as I'm doublechecking the email.
'NO TARA, IT DOESN'T SAY THAT ON THERE! YOU DON'T HAVE TO BE SUCH A FUCKING BITCH ABOUT IT!'
I turn around.
'Calm the fuck down Red. I wasn't attacking you. I just needed to know if I made the mistake or not!'
Which was true - I get very irritated with myself when I screw something up like that. She got back on the phone, I emailed the thing, and it was nice and tense for a good chunk of time there.
*breathes*
We're moving to a new office next weekend. It's a two story, yet Blondie wants us all together on the bottom floor (it's an apartment) in the open area so she has access to all of us. It's a little dungeon. No window, flourescent lighting - horrible.
But upstairs, there's this beautiful and spacious room with three windows facing in different directions. There's a white board on the wall - gorgeous! I want to be up there. I want a window. She wants us all together. I say 'hey, how 'bout the two of us take this room, the others can be downstairs?' which makes sense - we're production, they're sales and support (well, Blondie is also sales, but not the point).
'No,'she responds, 'we need to be together'.
'But there's room up here for all of us,'
'No, then we can't hear the door'
...sigh...
Truth is - for all the fun and girl talk we'd have as a group - I'm really just tired of it. I'm tired of listening to Big Red and her incessant bitching day in and day out about EVERY LITTLE THING (and I do mean every little thing - my knee hurts -it's hot in here-i'm retaining water- my daughter was such a little shit - having to hear about her husband's bowel resect nearly did me in). I'm tired of listening to Blondie go through the fitness mags and Victoria's Secret catalogue and saying 'oh, I *hate* her' and 'oh, look at her abs!'. I'm tired of listening to Pocohantas go on and on about her f'd up mother in law and her inability to use proper grammer or enunciate the last part of ANY WORD! 'It's so sof..' 'what did you do this pass weekend..' etc... I'm simply finding that my threshold for dealing with things is dwindling past the point of civility.
I feel like a fucking bitch, but I'm tired of it! These are nice people. I like these people, but I just want to do my job and go home - really. I've learned to not share too much with them, because I know how they talk, and even tho' they may think I'm sharing intimate things with them, I know what not to share. The important stuff... the *real* important stuff. I don't want them to have that kind of access to me.
But I don't know how to articulate any of this to Blondie without coming off like a major bitch or a major buzzkill! I don't want to put anyone into the position of feeling that they need to censor themselves in front of me. This leads to resentment. This leads to dislike, etc. This is one of the drawbacks to having a 'friendly' boss, rather than an assertive one. And I can't go above her - that's the owner, and I'd be bringing down all sorts of hell on everyone, and that isn't fair because I feel irritated.
I want that room on the second floor. I want to be segregated. But how do I get it without having the lot of them talking behind my back? I don't think there's a way - I know, I *know* that Red was venting all over Pocohantas when they left for the store shortly after 'the incident'. I kept my mouth shut with Blondie, 'cause it's unprofessional to snark about your coworkers like that (hypocritical of me considering we did it all the time with someone who's no longer there - she was a nightmare on all sorts of levels). But I usually find it's just better to hold my tongue, and I'm a total pussy - I knew if I said something to her, she'd say something to Red, and then she'd bitch all over me - I'm just tired, I didn't want the confrontation.
This just sucks all the way around.
Donnie Darko: The Director's Cut hits DVD shelves on February 15th!! Why are you wearing that stupid man suit?