Okay, queue the worst 80's song in history, and you have me! I've been slowly counting down the days until my employment with this god awful place is finally done. 2 more day! I'm down to 2 more days!!!! I'm getting more and more excited each day that it draws near! I've never been so excited to enter unemployment in my LIFE!
Speaking of unemployment...
I got a call yesterday for an interview for what sounds like a pretty sweet job that I'm way over-qualified for. And it's for an office manager position (still handling payroll, but whatev). Meaning, I would be the BOSS! I've been the boss before, I just stepped down for an entry-level position with the government, hoping to just get my foot in the door. Never again my friend, never again.
So I'm totally hyped about this interview! It's for a fairly small company that does some major work for construction and oil companies, specifically for the oil platforms up in the arctic. This job wouldn't take me up to the North Slope (bummer. The pay on those jobs is PHENOMENAL!), I would stay right here in my city and work Monday through Friday (again, bummer, I was totally looking forward to getting two weeks off each month!!), but if the pay is what I'm thinking it's going to be, then I'll pass on the monthly vacations and stay local.
So keep your fingers crossed that these people are smart enough to see how awesome I would be at this job and hire me! (I won't ask for good luck, just that they are smart enough to see they need to hire me!)
So to prepare for my interview I decided not to go to work today. I called in. Only because I don't want those a-holes to ruin my perfectly good mood on this gorgeous day right before I go for an interview. I need to be in the right frame of mind.
As hard as I try not to let them affect me, I mean hell, I'm leaving for good in 2 days, why should I get all worked up? They still manage to piss me off. Like yesterday when my boss came to me asking why we were paying for something when part of it was supposed to be covered. I circled the area in the paperwork that broke down all of the costs and explained in detail the costs, and then had to break it down verbally even further, something she would have been able to understand if she had actually read the paperwork... which she even said "I guess maybe if we had actually read this, I wouldn't need to ask..." Thank you for the perfect example of why I need to get the hell out of this office!
It just boggles the brain that these people are the one's in charge of running a government division. No wonder why we're all in such a mess!
Well, I'm off to my interview and to hopefully go from Government Girl to Office Manager!
~GG
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Friday, May 21, 2010
Sir, I'd really like a refund now. This is NOT the life I paid for....
Sorry I've been a little MIA. I'm a fucking genius who decided that she was going to "get back in shape" by spending my 15 minute break periods climbing the stairwell of our office building. You know, since I recently quit smoking and it's about the only way I'm going to actually get a 15 minute break and all. Well, I pushed myself waaaay too hard the other day, and when I woke up the next day, I was sore as hell, but that was nothing compared to the hell I felt the day after that. Completely unable to move, unable to sleep the night before, and then I had a doctor's appointment in the afternoon.... A gyno appointment nonetheless... and then got smacked down with a major migraine on my way home from the appointment. So this week hasn't been a good one for me.
Monday officially begins the final countdown until I'm free from this nightmare of a shitty job. Annnnd I still haven't heard back from ANY of the damn applications I've submitted, so I'm down to 5 working days left and no job lined up. Fuck me. And not in a good way. Damn it.
I almost didn't last the day at work today though. We recently had a traveler who went out of state for a very important and HUGE case, I think I may have mentioned something about this previously... Either way, it was going to be more cost effective to the state's budget to keep traveler in the other state over a weekend instead bringing him back for the weekend only to send him back on Monday. Duh.
Everyone was aware of this obvious fact. Everyone except for the Deputy Director apparently, who came to me this morning saying "we have a problem." She points out that he stayed over the weekend, and she wasn't aware that he wasn't going to be conducting any business over that weekend, so we're not paying for it. Ummm... Actually we are. And all of the information was in the informational packet I gave you that you had to approve of before we could send it on to the Commissioner's Office. Remember? You know? The thing you read? Oh.... You didn't read it?
Soooo, you're basically telling me that now, I'm going to have sit here, prorate the car rental, prorate the hotel, figure out the taxes per day, then total it all up for only Monday through Friday? And then figure out how we're going to make him pay for things when he already paid for it on his state credit card? Oh, and then we need to get the whole thing reimbursed by the trustee in the case? All because you really didn't read anything before you wrote your memo? Despite the fact that I mentioned ALL OF THIS in the email I sent to the Commissioner's Office when I asked for approval? So you're basically telling me that I'm going to have to jump through 50 flaming fucking hoops just to reach the same conclusion that I would reach all on my own without you fucking with shit to begin with? Because we all know that as soon as I get the explanation from the capital office, you're gonna cave and let me do my job exactly how I've been saying all along anyway. I only 5 more days of this bullshit left, but I can already see that you're gonna fill it so full of bullshit I'm gonna come out wearing a cowboy hat and a gold buckle the size of my head by Friday. And I already know what's going to happen.... The paperwork she just took off my desk this morning so she can "review" it, I'm not going to get it back until either Thursday or Friday, and then they're going to make it a "priority" that I get it done immediately.
In the 2 years that I've been working this office, I've tried on so many damn occasions to explain the per diem thing. No matter how hard I try, no matter how simple I make it, my boss just does NOT get it. Plain and simple, traveler's go into "travel status" 2 hours before their departing flight takes off, and they leave "travel status" one hour after their return flight lands. So if a traveler is on a flight that departs at 9:00 AM, they are officially in "travel status" at 7:00 AM. If they're flight lands back in their home city at 9:00 AM, they are no longer in "travel status at 10:00 AM. Is this really that hard to understand?? 2 hours before, 1 hour after. Easy peasy. Why, then, must I spend half of my afternoon explaining it over and over and over and over again??
Oh and sorry for the super angry tone tonight.... I came home to trashed home, a husband who hasn't done shit all day, and two teenagers that have managed to wear down my very LAST remaining nerve... And I'm too broke to buy a bottle of gin... So I'm sulking with my headphones on and Marilyn Manson blaring. It's my "happy" angry music. I don't punch things, I don't scream, I don't drink or do drugs (although I have to admit that sometimes it sounds REALLY good), my venting is allowing MM to scream in my ear for 40 minutes or so. No biggie.
I did have one bright shining moment this afternoon though... Spoke to my uncle finally, who works for one of the big corporations that provides services for all the "slope" workers, and he's gonna get me job at his camp!!
I really REALLY cannot wait to start this slope job. I don't care how physical the labor is, I don't care how shitty the work conditions can be, I don't care if I have to work in a building full of jackasses. I'll be working 12 hour shifts, 14 days straight. I'm not going to have time to worry about "office drama" or crap like that. I'm going to be working, eating, and sleeping. Pretty much it. And then, I get 2 whole weeks off, 14 days to do with as I please. I get a vacation every month. I'll work my ass off for 2 whole weeks of nothing. And it's perfect. I get to go to work, get the hell away from the teenagers and home drama, work my ass off, and right at the point where I'm really missing my family and getting really tired, I get to come home for 2 whole weeks.
I can't fucking wait.
~GG
Monday officially begins the final countdown until I'm free from this nightmare of a shitty job. Annnnd I still haven't heard back from ANY of the damn applications I've submitted, so I'm down to 5 working days left and no job lined up. Fuck me. And not in a good way. Damn it.
I almost didn't last the day at work today though. We recently had a traveler who went out of state for a very important and HUGE case, I think I may have mentioned something about this previously... Either way, it was going to be more cost effective to the state's budget to keep traveler in the other state over a weekend instead bringing him back for the weekend only to send him back on Monday. Duh.
Everyone was aware of this obvious fact. Everyone except for the Deputy Director apparently, who came to me this morning saying "we have a problem." She points out that he stayed over the weekend, and she wasn't aware that he wasn't going to be conducting any business over that weekend, so we're not paying for it. Ummm... Actually we are. And all of the information was in the informational packet I gave you that you had to approve of before we could send it on to the Commissioner's Office. Remember? You know? The thing you read? Oh.... You didn't read it?
Soooo, you're basically telling me that now, I'm going to have sit here, prorate the car rental, prorate the hotel, figure out the taxes per day, then total it all up for only Monday through Friday? And then figure out how we're going to make him pay for things when he already paid for it on his state credit card? Oh, and then we need to get the whole thing reimbursed by the trustee in the case? All because you really didn't read anything before you wrote your memo? Despite the fact that I mentioned ALL OF THIS in the email I sent to the Commissioner's Office when I asked for approval? So you're basically telling me that I'm going to have to jump through 50 flaming fucking hoops just to reach the same conclusion that I would reach all on my own without you fucking with shit to begin with? Because we all know that as soon as I get the explanation from the capital office, you're gonna cave and let me do my job exactly how I've been saying all along anyway. I only 5 more days of this bullshit left, but I can already see that you're gonna fill it so full of bullshit I'm gonna come out wearing a cowboy hat and a gold buckle the size of my head by Friday. And I already know what's going to happen.... The paperwork she just took off my desk this morning so she can "review" it, I'm not going to get it back until either Thursday or Friday, and then they're going to make it a "priority" that I get it done immediately.
In the 2 years that I've been working this office, I've tried on so many damn occasions to explain the per diem thing. No matter how hard I try, no matter how simple I make it, my boss just does NOT get it. Plain and simple, traveler's go into "travel status" 2 hours before their departing flight takes off, and they leave "travel status" one hour after their return flight lands. So if a traveler is on a flight that departs at 9:00 AM, they are officially in "travel status" at 7:00 AM. If they're flight lands back in their home city at 9:00 AM, they are no longer in "travel status at 10:00 AM. Is this really that hard to understand?? 2 hours before, 1 hour after. Easy peasy. Why, then, must I spend half of my afternoon explaining it over and over and over and over again??
Oh and sorry for the super angry tone tonight.... I came home to trashed home, a husband who hasn't done shit all day, and two teenagers that have managed to wear down my very LAST remaining nerve... And I'm too broke to buy a bottle of gin... So I'm sulking with my headphones on and Marilyn Manson blaring. It's my "happy" angry music. I don't punch things, I don't scream, I don't drink or do drugs (although I have to admit that sometimes it sounds REALLY good), my venting is allowing MM to scream in my ear for 40 minutes or so. No biggie.
I did have one bright shining moment this afternoon though... Spoke to my uncle finally, who works for one of the big corporations that provides services for all the "slope" workers, and he's gonna get me job at his camp!!
I really REALLY cannot wait to start this slope job. I don't care how physical the labor is, I don't care how shitty the work conditions can be, I don't care if I have to work in a building full of jackasses. I'll be working 12 hour shifts, 14 days straight. I'm not going to have time to worry about "office drama" or crap like that. I'm going to be working, eating, and sleeping. Pretty much it. And then, I get 2 whole weeks off, 14 days to do with as I please. I get a vacation every month. I'll work my ass off for 2 whole weeks of nothing. And it's perfect. I get to go to work, get the hell away from the teenagers and home drama, work my ass off, and right at the point where I'm really missing my family and getting really tired, I get to come home for 2 whole weeks.
I can't fucking wait.
~GG
Friday, May 7, 2010
And THIS is exactly why I'm leaving....
When I accepted my position in this office 2 years ago, I knew more about this job and it's regulations then people who actually worked for the state did. I've honestly forgotten more about this job then they ever knew.
So it really wasn't that big of a deal when I was faced with a honest to Governor emergency out-of-state travel request on a Friday. Because yeah, I not only know how to do my job, but I do my job like a bad ass.
I've been working on this travel packet for the past week and a half now, with a traveler who has this super serious monster of a case (involving a multi-million dollar fraud case, the FBI, two investment firms located in another, very sunny state, and one very elderly and once wealthy client), and the flip-flop between needing to go and then not needing to go and then needing to go again. This trip has been booked, cancelled, re booked, cancelled again, and re booked again more often than a Whitney Houston concert.
As the week drew to a close, the panic began to rise in the minds of my "superiors". When asked about this yesterday, I calmly informed my boss that "it literally only takes an hour, at most, to get approval from the Commissioner's office. What takes forever is our Director and Deputy Director who hold on to these things for weeks at a time, when really, all they have to do is write up a damn piece of paper asking for permission." (and yes, friends, I really DID say that!) I think my frustration with this division is becoming more and more clear each day.
So yesterday, it was a big deal that I get everything ready to go to the Deputy Director. Well, I follow all the procedures as I'm supposed to, as usual, get everything done and ready to go, and hand it over to the DD. Well, unknown to me, it's an even BIGGER deal now, because the Director AND the Commissioner are both out of the office on personal days today (Friday). Well, fucking fantastic, because who the hell are we going to get approval from now? Like I honestly care, really, it's technically not MY problem!
Well, someone ALWAYS has to throw a fucking wrench into these things in order to completely fuck things up and make them FAR more complicated than they really need to be. I'm telling you, these people thoroughly enjoy watching people jump through hoops for no particular reason other than their own amusement. Even when they're not even there to witness the chaos.
Enter the Director, who calls the DD this morning, and comes up with some convoluted story that the trustee in this case is to pay for everything up front, and in order for this to happen, the Department of Finance has to be drug into this somehow. So of course, the DD comes to me and explains that the trustee has to pay for EVERYTHING up front so we don't have to bear the cost from our budget, and the DOF needs to be called to find out how this is supposed to happen.
In my two years working for the state, I have NEVER heard anything like this. And I have become quite the expert at all things financial in the world of state travel.
So, I explain, with a great deal of boredom in my voice, that this isn't going to happen, DOF has NOTHING to do with our travel, or the purchasing of, and that the policies require that WE pay for everything first and THEN get reimbursed after the fact by the trustee. This is the state policy, and it's there for a reason. Trust me. I've learned those reasons. The hard way.
But no, she insists that it HAS to be done this way. So we go to my supervisor, who has a knack for blowing things WAAAAAY out of proportion, and now she's in panic mode because Governor forbid, there should be a policy or procedure in this state that she's not familiar with (which is pretty much ALL of them!), so now she's insistent on calling up the Department of Administrative Services (DAS - The people who live in the capital and are responsible for ensuring all policies and procedures and regulations are strictly adhered to), to question them about this. Once more, I find myself dragged into the middle of a completely unnecessary conference call, completely annoyed and bored out of my mind, already knowing what the answer is going to be.
Sure enough, they confirm what I already know, what I've learned that no matter how hard I try to explain to these people the policies and procedures, apparently they will not believe it until they have jumped through all 50 flaming hoops. So we move forward. Only now, the trustee is going to be making all the arrangements themselves, so I don't need to book the air, hotel and car, I only need to figure out the amount of money the traveler is going to get for food while on the trip, as this is the amount the trustee will need to reimburse the state for this trip.
So, as I'm retyping up this request and all the forms (for what certainly seems like the 20th time at this point), I'm just about done with everything when my boss comes out of nowhere and hits me with what I already knew was coming anyway. The Director just called, and now she wants us to pay for everything up front and then have the trustee pay us back. So, now I DO need to make all the arrangements, AND retype the request and necessary paperwork.
Fucking awesome. I fucking hate you people.
So as I'm starting to do this... on the VERY slow program we use for all travel arrangements (reminds me of the days when everyone was on dial-up internet connections... and it was considered FAST!) she proceeds to ask me if I understand and if I can do this, and get it done now because this is clearly a "priority".
I can't even look at her at this point, because if I do, I'm probably going to start laughing in her face. I really wish I could just tell these people how utterly predictable and ridiculous they are. If I could put dog collars on them and have the Director run them all over the building like an obstacle course at the American Kennel Club, I could make a killing in Pay Per View proceeds.
Yes, I tell her, with about as much enthusiasm as I can muster - which really is about the same amount as a 3 year old when told they're going to spend the evening at the opera - I can do this. I'll have it just as soon as this damn website gets moving.
About an hour later, she comes out and asks me if I've sent this off for approval yet, to which I tell her no, you wanted me to do up two itineraries for comparison purposes, and I'm just now finishing up the second one. As soon as this is done, I'll send it. As I tell her this, I'm filing my nails.
No, seriously. This damn website is so slow, I have the opportunity to give myself a manicure while I'm waiting for all the damn pages to load.
So, I get this thing sent off, and I'm not kidding when I say that 20 minutes after I've scanned all the paperwork down to the capital and the Commissioner's office, my boss comes out once again and asks me if I've sent this off yet. Yes, I tell her, it's been sent. It's out of my hands at this point. At which point she promptly runs into the DD's office and gives her a status update that it's in the hands of the Commissioner's office now. I can only imagine that honestly, she doesn't give a flying fuck, and really won't give a crap until we hear whether or not it's been approved.
I head to lunch very shortly after all this happens, because yeah, quite frankly, I could really not care any less about this fucking trip, and if they thought I was going to sit there at my desk constantly hitting send/receive until the answer came back, they were sadly mistaken.
I go to lunch, which consisted of running home and checking my mail, checking my facebook page, and then heading back to the office. Upon returning, I see a note taped to my desk from my boss saying that she was going to be taking a very long lunch and wouldn't be back until sometime after 2, but that I really needed to keep an eye out for the approval to come back, and once we did get an answer back, I needed to forward a copy to her and the DD, and as soon as I did that, I needed to walk into the DD's office and TELL HER that I just sent her a copy of the email (I'm fucking serious people, I can't make this shit up!!), and then tell her that I didn't forward a copy to the Director, and ask if she wanted to do that, or if I should. And then she tells me that I will need to follow up (i.e., harass) the travel agency to make sure they got me the finalized and ticketed itinerary as soon as possible, because the traveler HAS TO HAVE THIS INFORMATION BEFORE I LEAVE FOR THE DAY. Well, no shit Sherlock. How in the fuck would the traveler know what damn flight to get on if I didn't send it to him??
Well, as I sit down at my desk, I log back into my computer to find that the approval has come back. Surprise, fucking surprise. Didn't see THAT one coming. (I really wish there were a sarcasm font... would convey the emphasis I hear quite clearly in MY head....)
Before I forward on to my boss and the DD, I contact the travel agency and have them issue the final itinerary. Oh, but wait. I'm fucking smart, and I know this traveler has an unused ticket that we can apply to this trip, so I have them reuse that ticket too. Because guess what? I KNOW HOW TO DO MY DAMN JOB!! As soon as I have the final itinerary, I forward that on to the traveler, and THEN I forward the approval to my boss and the DD.
See what I did there? I did my damn job and made sure everything was taken care of. Because yeah, that's what I do.
I walk into the DD's office, feeling like a complete and utter fucking moron for what I'm about to do, but nonetheless, I TELL HER I just sent her an email, that I didn't forward to the Director, would she like me to do that, or would she be doing that? I swear to God, she looked at me as if I were retarded and said, "No, that's fine. She doesn't need it. She's not even checking her emails today."
Go fucking figure. I really hate my boss right now.
So, as soon as my boss gets back from her long lunch, she makes it a point to stop by my desk and let me know that she saw we got the approval, and she just wants to know where we're at on getting the final itinerary. I hold up my copy of the paperwork and say it's already done, and I already sent it to the traveler. She can't hide the shock and surprise that she clearly feels at this moment. She then goes into some long winded explanation of needing a write up of all the costs for this trip so we can give it to the trustee so we can have the reimbursement taken care of before the travel is even done. I say I can't do that.
She looks stunned.
I then explain that I can't say what the exact final total will be for a few reasons. I tell her that considering I don't know how much taxes and fees the rental car agency and hotel is going to charge, I can't predict exactly how much gas the traveler is going to need to purchase for the rental car, I can't say exactly how much the airline is going to charge for baggage, because really, I don't know how much luggage they are taking on this trip, and for fucks sake, I can't predict the weather or what is going to happen to the flight, and there's ALWAYS the possibility the traveler could get stuck somewhere due to mechanical failure of a plane (happens a LOT with the airline we have a contract with) or due to weather, or hell, a fucking volcano could erupt and cause flight delays that could result in more money for food, an extra night in a hotel, an extra day with the rental car, or the Feds could tie up the damn case he's attending in court, and he could need to stay longer. So no, I cannot and will not presume to know how much this trip will cost, and won't even attempt to figure out the final costs until the traveler has returned and given me ALL of the receipts. Then, and only then will I total everything up so we can get a check from the trustee.
She blinked a few times, said "yeah, I guess that makes sense. Okay." and walked off to finish absorbing the logic that I just immersed her in.
And this, dear friends, is exactly why I am leaving this job, and why I frankly don't give a shit that I'm leaving them at the worst possible moment in the fiscal year (for them anyway, it's the start of summer for me!)
~GG
So it really wasn't that big of a deal when I was faced with a honest to Governor emergency out-of-state travel request on a Friday. Because yeah, I not only know how to do my job, but I do my job like a bad ass.
I've been working on this travel packet for the past week and a half now, with a traveler who has this super serious monster of a case (involving a multi-million dollar fraud case, the FBI, two investment firms located in another, very sunny state, and one very elderly and once wealthy client), and the flip-flop between needing to go and then not needing to go and then needing to go again. This trip has been booked, cancelled, re booked, cancelled again, and re booked again more often than a Whitney Houston concert.
As the week drew to a close, the panic began to rise in the minds of my "superiors". When asked about this yesterday, I calmly informed my boss that "it literally only takes an hour, at most, to get approval from the Commissioner's office. What takes forever is our Director and Deputy Director who hold on to these things for weeks at a time, when really, all they have to do is write up a damn piece of paper asking for permission." (and yes, friends, I really DID say that!) I think my frustration with this division is becoming more and more clear each day.
So yesterday, it was a big deal that I get everything ready to go to the Deputy Director. Well, I follow all the procedures as I'm supposed to, as usual, get everything done and ready to go, and hand it over to the DD. Well, unknown to me, it's an even BIGGER deal now, because the Director AND the Commissioner are both out of the office on personal days today (Friday). Well, fucking fantastic, because who the hell are we going to get approval from now? Like I honestly care, really, it's technically not MY problem!
Well, someone ALWAYS has to throw a fucking wrench into these things in order to completely fuck things up and make them FAR more complicated than they really need to be. I'm telling you, these people thoroughly enjoy watching people jump through hoops for no particular reason other than their own amusement. Even when they're not even there to witness the chaos.
Enter the Director, who calls the DD this morning, and comes up with some convoluted story that the trustee in this case is to pay for everything up front, and in order for this to happen, the Department of Finance has to be drug into this somehow. So of course, the DD comes to me and explains that the trustee has to pay for EVERYTHING up front so we don't have to bear the cost from our budget, and the DOF needs to be called to find out how this is supposed to happen.
In my two years working for the state, I have NEVER heard anything like this. And I have become quite the expert at all things financial in the world of state travel.
So, I explain, with a great deal of boredom in my voice, that this isn't going to happen, DOF has NOTHING to do with our travel, or the purchasing of, and that the policies require that WE pay for everything first and THEN get reimbursed after the fact by the trustee. This is the state policy, and it's there for a reason. Trust me. I've learned those reasons. The hard way.
But no, she insists that it HAS to be done this way. So we go to my supervisor, who has a knack for blowing things WAAAAAY out of proportion, and now she's in panic mode because Governor forbid, there should be a policy or procedure in this state that she's not familiar with (which is pretty much ALL of them!), so now she's insistent on calling up the Department of Administrative Services (DAS - The people who live in the capital and are responsible for ensuring all policies and procedures and regulations are strictly adhered to), to question them about this. Once more, I find myself dragged into the middle of a completely unnecessary conference call, completely annoyed and bored out of my mind, already knowing what the answer is going to be.
Sure enough, they confirm what I already know, what I've learned that no matter how hard I try to explain to these people the policies and procedures, apparently they will not believe it until they have jumped through all 50 flaming hoops. So we move forward. Only now, the trustee is going to be making all the arrangements themselves, so I don't need to book the air, hotel and car, I only need to figure out the amount of money the traveler is going to get for food while on the trip, as this is the amount the trustee will need to reimburse the state for this trip.
So, as I'm retyping up this request and all the forms (for what certainly seems like the 20th time at this point), I'm just about done with everything when my boss comes out of nowhere and hits me with what I already knew was coming anyway. The Director just called, and now she wants us to pay for everything up front and then have the trustee pay us back. So, now I DO need to make all the arrangements, AND retype the request and necessary paperwork.
Fucking awesome. I fucking hate you people.
So as I'm starting to do this... on the VERY slow program we use for all travel arrangements (reminds me of the days when everyone was on dial-up internet connections... and it was considered FAST!) she proceeds to ask me if I understand and if I can do this, and get it done now because this is clearly a "priority".
I can't even look at her at this point, because if I do, I'm probably going to start laughing in her face. I really wish I could just tell these people how utterly predictable and ridiculous they are. If I could put dog collars on them and have the Director run them all over the building like an obstacle course at the American Kennel Club, I could make a killing in Pay Per View proceeds.
Yes, I tell her, with about as much enthusiasm as I can muster - which really is about the same amount as a 3 year old when told they're going to spend the evening at the opera - I can do this. I'll have it just as soon as this damn website gets moving.
About an hour later, she comes out and asks me if I've sent this off for approval yet, to which I tell her no, you wanted me to do up two itineraries for comparison purposes, and I'm just now finishing up the second one. As soon as this is done, I'll send it. As I tell her this, I'm filing my nails.
No, seriously. This damn website is so slow, I have the opportunity to give myself a manicure while I'm waiting for all the damn pages to load.
So, I get this thing sent off, and I'm not kidding when I say that 20 minutes after I've scanned all the paperwork down to the capital and the Commissioner's office, my boss comes out once again and asks me if I've sent this off yet. Yes, I tell her, it's been sent. It's out of my hands at this point. At which point she promptly runs into the DD's office and gives her a status update that it's in the hands of the Commissioner's office now. I can only imagine that honestly, she doesn't give a flying fuck, and really won't give a crap until we hear whether or not it's been approved.
I head to lunch very shortly after all this happens, because yeah, quite frankly, I could really not care any less about this fucking trip, and if they thought I was going to sit there at my desk constantly hitting send/receive until the answer came back, they were sadly mistaken.
I go to lunch, which consisted of running home and checking my mail, checking my facebook page, and then heading back to the office. Upon returning, I see a note taped to my desk from my boss saying that she was going to be taking a very long lunch and wouldn't be back until sometime after 2, but that I really needed to keep an eye out for the approval to come back, and once we did get an answer back, I needed to forward a copy to her and the DD, and as soon as I did that, I needed to walk into the DD's office and TELL HER that I just sent her a copy of the email (I'm fucking serious people, I can't make this shit up!!), and then tell her that I didn't forward a copy to the Director, and ask if she wanted to do that, or if I should. And then she tells me that I will need to follow up (i.e., harass) the travel agency to make sure they got me the finalized and ticketed itinerary as soon as possible, because the traveler HAS TO HAVE THIS INFORMATION BEFORE I LEAVE FOR THE DAY. Well, no shit Sherlock. How in the fuck would the traveler know what damn flight to get on if I didn't send it to him??
Well, as I sit down at my desk, I log back into my computer to find that the approval has come back. Surprise, fucking surprise. Didn't see THAT one coming. (I really wish there were a sarcasm font... would convey the emphasis I hear quite clearly in MY head....)
Before I forward on to my boss and the DD, I contact the travel agency and have them issue the final itinerary. Oh, but wait. I'm fucking smart, and I know this traveler has an unused ticket that we can apply to this trip, so I have them reuse that ticket too. Because guess what? I KNOW HOW TO DO MY DAMN JOB!! As soon as I have the final itinerary, I forward that on to the traveler, and THEN I forward the approval to my boss and the DD.
See what I did there? I did my damn job and made sure everything was taken care of. Because yeah, that's what I do.
I walk into the DD's office, feeling like a complete and utter fucking moron for what I'm about to do, but nonetheless, I TELL HER I just sent her an email, that I didn't forward to the Director, would she like me to do that, or would she be doing that? I swear to God, she looked at me as if I were retarded and said, "No, that's fine. She doesn't need it. She's not even checking her emails today."
Go fucking figure. I really hate my boss right now.
So, as soon as my boss gets back from her long lunch, she makes it a point to stop by my desk and let me know that she saw we got the approval, and she just wants to know where we're at on getting the final itinerary. I hold up my copy of the paperwork and say it's already done, and I already sent it to the traveler. She can't hide the shock and surprise that she clearly feels at this moment. She then goes into some long winded explanation of needing a write up of all the costs for this trip so we can give it to the trustee so we can have the reimbursement taken care of before the travel is even done. I say I can't do that.
She looks stunned.
I then explain that I can't say what the exact final total will be for a few reasons. I tell her that considering I don't know how much taxes and fees the rental car agency and hotel is going to charge, I can't predict exactly how much gas the traveler is going to need to purchase for the rental car, I can't say exactly how much the airline is going to charge for baggage, because really, I don't know how much luggage they are taking on this trip, and for fucks sake, I can't predict the weather or what is going to happen to the flight, and there's ALWAYS the possibility the traveler could get stuck somewhere due to mechanical failure of a plane (happens a LOT with the airline we have a contract with) or due to weather, or hell, a fucking volcano could erupt and cause flight delays that could result in more money for food, an extra night in a hotel, an extra day with the rental car, or the Feds could tie up the damn case he's attending in court, and he could need to stay longer. So no, I cannot and will not presume to know how much this trip will cost, and won't even attempt to figure out the final costs until the traveler has returned and given me ALL of the receipts. Then, and only then will I total everything up so we can get a check from the trustee.
She blinked a few times, said "yeah, I guess that makes sense. Okay." and walked off to finish absorbing the logic that I just immersed her in.
And this, dear friends, is exactly why I am leaving this job, and why I frankly don't give a shit that I'm leaving them at the worst possible moment in the fiscal year (for them anyway, it's the start of summer for me!)
~GG
Thursday, May 6, 2010
The count down begins....
The news has spread rather quickly. A lot faster than I expected, honestly. First thing this morning I get a phone call from one of our lawyers who needs to make a trip to very rural location, and one of the first things he said when I answered the phone was "So, I hear you're leaving us! THAT SUCKS!!"
It's really hard for me to focus on my work knowing that I'm not going to be here much longer. But, with the incredibly intense work ethic I have ingrained in my DNA, I simply cannot leave a job knowing that I did not give %150 at the end of each day. So, even when I'm "slacking off", I still manage to get quite a bit of work done.
Didn't help that I had the certifiers from the capitol calling me all day regarding payroll. For fucks sake, I honest to God hate our state's payroll system, and cannot wait until I no longer have to deal with this crap. Even working in Barrow, Alaska processing payroll that includes over-time, double time, and even triple time for the slope workers is going to be a hell of a lot easier than dealing with these jackasses. (Which totally just reminded me... I need to get my resume up tonight!!)
I started my day off peppy, happy, and eager to face the day. Probably had something to do with the fact that I now have an end in sight, I don't feel trapped in this loser of a job anymore, and that huge crushing weight of an over-whelming work load is gone. By the end of my day, I had decided to clear out my work station and bring all of my personal stuff home. I know, I still have 3 weeks left on this job, but I want to avoid that last day, walk of shame while carrying my box of personal stuff. On my last day, I will walk out of that office building, burden-free, carrying only my head, held high.
I did have one very amusing moment towards the end of the day though, that I absolutely HAVE to share.
My son calls me at 3:30 this afternoon to tell me that they have an orchestra concert tonight at the school at 7:00. Now, my child knows damn well that I absolutely hate it when they wait until the last possible moment to tell me of things they need to attend. Such as field trips that they conveniently forget to mention until the morning of, when they hand me the permission slip as they're supposed to be walking out the door. I thought I had nipped this problem in the bud when they wound up spending several fun filled field trips in the school library instead.
Unfortunately though, my children have a pretty absent-minded orchestra teacher, who keeps rescheduling these things at literally the last minute.
So, my son calls me, and I proceed to tell him (in a very loud voice) that there is no way he is going, that he cannot wait until 3 and half hours before he is supposed to be there to inform me of this, that I am sick and tired of him expecting to be able to wait until the last possible moment to inform me of these things, that it's just not going to happen, he's not going, there's no way he can expect me to just drop everything in order to take care of these things, and so forth and so on.
Well, I obviously was not thinking about how this sounds and how it pertains to my job (honestly, I was just trying to prove a point that yes, my children are in fact inconsiderate of people's jobs and DO in fact wait until the last possible second to inform me of these things...), until that is, my boss is standing next to me questioning me about who I'm speaking to. When I tell her that I'm talking to my son, she heaves this HUGE sigh of relief and then says "Oh God! I thought you were talking to a traveler!!!"
If only I were allowed to speak to our employees like that. I would have vented a LOT of frustration a very long time ago, and probably would not be leaving my job right now!!
~GG
It's really hard for me to focus on my work knowing that I'm not going to be here much longer. But, with the incredibly intense work ethic I have ingrained in my DNA, I simply cannot leave a job knowing that I did not give %150 at the end of each day. So, even when I'm "slacking off", I still manage to get quite a bit of work done.
Didn't help that I had the certifiers from the capitol calling me all day regarding payroll. For fucks sake, I honest to God hate our state's payroll system, and cannot wait until I no longer have to deal with this crap. Even working in Barrow, Alaska processing payroll that includes over-time, double time, and even triple time for the slope workers is going to be a hell of a lot easier than dealing with these jackasses. (Which totally just reminded me... I need to get my resume up tonight!!)
I started my day off peppy, happy, and eager to face the day. Probably had something to do with the fact that I now have an end in sight, I don't feel trapped in this loser of a job anymore, and that huge crushing weight of an over-whelming work load is gone. By the end of my day, I had decided to clear out my work station and bring all of my personal stuff home. I know, I still have 3 weeks left on this job, but I want to avoid that last day, walk of shame while carrying my box of personal stuff. On my last day, I will walk out of that office building, burden-free, carrying only my head, held high.
I did have one very amusing moment towards the end of the day though, that I absolutely HAVE to share.
My son calls me at 3:30 this afternoon to tell me that they have an orchestra concert tonight at the school at 7:00. Now, my child knows damn well that I absolutely hate it when they wait until the last possible moment to tell me of things they need to attend. Such as field trips that they conveniently forget to mention until the morning of, when they hand me the permission slip as they're supposed to be walking out the door. I thought I had nipped this problem in the bud when they wound up spending several fun filled field trips in the school library instead.
Unfortunately though, my children have a pretty absent-minded orchestra teacher, who keeps rescheduling these things at literally the last minute.
So, my son calls me, and I proceed to tell him (in a very loud voice) that there is no way he is going, that he cannot wait until 3 and half hours before he is supposed to be there to inform me of this, that I am sick and tired of him expecting to be able to wait until the last possible moment to inform me of these things, that it's just not going to happen, he's not going, there's no way he can expect me to just drop everything in order to take care of these things, and so forth and so on.
Well, I obviously was not thinking about how this sounds and how it pertains to my job (honestly, I was just trying to prove a point that yes, my children are in fact inconsiderate of people's jobs and DO in fact wait until the last possible second to inform me of these things...), until that is, my boss is standing next to me questioning me about who I'm speaking to. When I tell her that I'm talking to my son, she heaves this HUGE sigh of relief and then says "Oh God! I thought you were talking to a traveler!!!"
If only I were allowed to speak to our employees like that. I would have vented a LOT of frustration a very long time ago, and probably would not be leaving my job right now!!
~GG
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
Fuck this. I quit.
It took all the strength and common sense in me to not pack all of my stuff up and stick a post -it note on my monitor that read "Fuck this. I quit." and walk out. It really, honestly did.
With all the bullshit that I constantly put up with, it took something so simple to piss me off to the point of saying "I'm done." Finally.
I got an email from my supervisor today that told me that anytime we process an employee move, a copy of the forms need to be moved into a folder labeled as "Moves", and that this needs to be done each time. She then basically drew me a map of where on the local drives to find this mysterious folder, and then, in detail told me how to right-click, click "copy", go back to the "Moves" folder, right-click and click "paste". Seriously.
So first of all, considering that I've processed a grand total of 3 employee moves in the last year and this has NEVER come up until now, how the fuck am I supposed to know this? Secondly, how the fuck was I supposed to know that folder even existed, considering that it was pretty well hidden in some recess of local drive that I never venture to? Third, and more importantly, in the time that it took you to write up this fucking stupid email that basically tells me that you think so little of my intelligence that you assume I don't know how to do a basic copy of a file, you could have done it yourself. Fuck you.
My notice went exactly like this:
"Greetings:
Please accept this email as my formal announcement of resignation from (insert office name here), starting today. My last day will be May 28th, 2010.
Please let me know how I can help make a smooth transition during my remaining time here.
Regards,
Me."
I most certainly did not want to add any "Thank you for the opportunity to work here, it's been a pleasure" kind of bullshit. Because if I was going to add that crap in, I might as well not even leave. At least that's how I feel about this crap.
This moment has been coming for quite some time. Ever since they, in not so many words so they can't get in any trouble for it, told me that basically I needed to make them my priority over my family. When I have to fight tooth and nail to attend my daughter's orchestra concert, or track meet, or when I have to argue just so I can attend parent/teacher conferences twice a school year... All I can say, is fuck you and the god damned high horse you rode in on. Don't tell me I'm not nearly invested enough in this agency and then spout off about your child's hockey game that you had to leave early for yesterday because the game took place in a stadium 50 miles away.
And let me tell you one more thing. I may have had my first child at 14 years of age. I may have dropped out of high school so I could raise the two children I had before the age of 17. And I may have gone through 2 marriages before I was able to rent a car without having to have some huge form of deposit. But let me point out the fact that while MOST young teenage mothers spend a vast majority of their life on one form of welfare or another, and while MOST (please note that I am not saying ALL), very young teenage mothers never really learn what being a mother is REALLY about, I am not, nor have I EVER come even close to this statistic. Because yes, while I did in fact drop out of high school, I still managed to get my diploma on my own terms, and not only that, I also put myself through college for that diploma that you seem to keep forgetting I have. And yes, while I have been divorced twice, let me remind you that my "failed" relationships were with a man who thought it better to have his wife fear him than love him, and secondly with a man who decided far too late that he did not want the responsibility of a wife and kids and would rather move to Nevada where it's perfectly legal to pay for sex in lieu of having an actual relationship.
That being said, I have NEVER, in my entire adult life, been in a situation where I have EVER put anyone or anything as a higher priority than my children. So yes, you can take this "precious" job, and all your "wonderful" opportunities and shove them up your cynical, hypocritical ass. Go ahead and get pissed off at me when I give more than enough notice that I'm leaving. I really don't give a flying fuck anymore.
And yes, I am perfectly aware that I am leaving you in an extremely tough situation, as there really is no one to take over my duties and responsibilities, and yes, I am aware that you can't hire anyone to replace me until after July 1st, because of the current budget constraints and the current hiring freeze through the end of the fiscal year. Perhaps now you'll understand that you are already over-working your entire staff and have loaded way to many tasks on an already exhausted work force. If you expect me to "invest" myself in a division that I have watched tell a grieving woman that she can only take half a day to attend her mother-in-law's funeral, you're sadly mistaken.
It doesn't really surprise me when I hear stories of people leaving on such bad terms with this agency that their parting words were "Peace out, bitches!" If only I were able to adequately express my disgust with this agency, perhaps, maybe THEN you would understand why your entire support staff and most of your executive staff hate this place, and upon hearing of my notice have said "You're so lucky. You're getting out."
But then again, perhaps I could just print out a copy of this blog and leave it on your chair.
~GG
With all the bullshit that I constantly put up with, it took something so simple to piss me off to the point of saying "I'm done." Finally.
I got an email from my supervisor today that told me that anytime we process an employee move, a copy of the forms need to be moved into a folder labeled as "Moves", and that this needs to be done each time. She then basically drew me a map of where on the local drives to find this mysterious folder, and then, in detail told me how to right-click, click "copy", go back to the "Moves" folder, right-click and click "paste". Seriously.
So first of all, considering that I've processed a grand total of 3 employee moves in the last year and this has NEVER come up until now, how the fuck am I supposed to know this? Secondly, how the fuck was I supposed to know that folder even existed, considering that it was pretty well hidden in some recess of local drive that I never venture to? Third, and more importantly, in the time that it took you to write up this fucking stupid email that basically tells me that you think so little of my intelligence that you assume I don't know how to do a basic copy of a file, you could have done it yourself. Fuck you.
My notice went exactly like this:
"Greetings:
Please accept this email as my formal announcement of resignation from (insert office name here), starting today. My last day will be May 28th, 2010.
Please let me know how I can help make a smooth transition during my remaining time here.
Regards,
Me."
I most certainly did not want to add any "Thank you for the opportunity to work here, it's been a pleasure" kind of bullshit. Because if I was going to add that crap in, I might as well not even leave. At least that's how I feel about this crap.
This moment has been coming for quite some time. Ever since they, in not so many words so they can't get in any trouble for it, told me that basically I needed to make them my priority over my family. When I have to fight tooth and nail to attend my daughter's orchestra concert, or track meet, or when I have to argue just so I can attend parent/teacher conferences twice a school year... All I can say, is fuck you and the god damned high horse you rode in on. Don't tell me I'm not nearly invested enough in this agency and then spout off about your child's hockey game that you had to leave early for yesterday because the game took place in a stadium 50 miles away.
And let me tell you one more thing. I may have had my first child at 14 years of age. I may have dropped out of high school so I could raise the two children I had before the age of 17. And I may have gone through 2 marriages before I was able to rent a car without having to have some huge form of deposit. But let me point out the fact that while MOST young teenage mothers spend a vast majority of their life on one form of welfare or another, and while MOST (please note that I am not saying ALL), very young teenage mothers never really learn what being a mother is REALLY about, I am not, nor have I EVER come even close to this statistic. Because yes, while I did in fact drop out of high school, I still managed to get my diploma on my own terms, and not only that, I also put myself through college for that diploma that you seem to keep forgetting I have. And yes, while I have been divorced twice, let me remind you that my "failed" relationships were with a man who thought it better to have his wife fear him than love him, and secondly with a man who decided far too late that he did not want the responsibility of a wife and kids and would rather move to Nevada where it's perfectly legal to pay for sex in lieu of having an actual relationship.
That being said, I have NEVER, in my entire adult life, been in a situation where I have EVER put anyone or anything as a higher priority than my children. So yes, you can take this "precious" job, and all your "wonderful" opportunities and shove them up your cynical, hypocritical ass. Go ahead and get pissed off at me when I give more than enough notice that I'm leaving. I really don't give a flying fuck anymore.
And yes, I am perfectly aware that I am leaving you in an extremely tough situation, as there really is no one to take over my duties and responsibilities, and yes, I am aware that you can't hire anyone to replace me until after July 1st, because of the current budget constraints and the current hiring freeze through the end of the fiscal year. Perhaps now you'll understand that you are already over-working your entire staff and have loaded way to many tasks on an already exhausted work force. If you expect me to "invest" myself in a division that I have watched tell a grieving woman that she can only take half a day to attend her mother-in-law's funeral, you're sadly mistaken.
It doesn't really surprise me when I hear stories of people leaving on such bad terms with this agency that their parting words were "Peace out, bitches!" If only I were able to adequately express my disgust with this agency, perhaps, maybe THEN you would understand why your entire support staff and most of your executive staff hate this place, and upon hearing of my notice have said "You're so lucky. You're getting out."
But then again, perhaps I could just print out a copy of this blog and leave it on your chair.
~GG
Saturday, April 17, 2010
Someone Call A&E... We've Got A Hoarder Here!!
It took me so long to post tonight, mainly because I had payroll today (which is going to go into my weekend, thanks jerks!), and I figured I would say something about that. Figured I would go into a long rant about how my fellow co-workers just really don't give a shit about deadlines - a fact that is surprising, considering that a good number of them are lawyers! Or perhaps bitch about the fact that even though I clearly stated that these were due by noon, I was still being handed time sheets 15 minutes before my scheduled time to leave.
Now, while I could go into this long rant, I just have this other subject that keeps popping into my head and pulling my attention to it, in the way that a screaming 2 year old laying on the floor of the big box chain store grabs the attention of every shopper in the area. As much as the mom really, REALLY wants everyone to just look the other way and ignore her screaming, red-faced, little terrorist with chubby cheeks... We all know it simply cannot be done.
So, that being said, I have a feeling the subject of payroll will have to wait for another time. Like say, tomorrow night, after I've wasted a perfectly good day off, sitting at my desk scrutinizing whether or not people are really so stupid that they still don't know how to figure out how to properly fill in a basic time sheet after years of state service. And yes, even after many, MANY years of employment, there is still a very large number of people who can be reduced to the same intelligence levels of a newborn pygmy goat when asked if they really came into the office on a holiday.
No, I have a confession to make tonight, and it's really hard for me to do this, so I hope you will bear with me as I unveil the source of my work place shame. Okay, here goes:
I hoard pens.
There. I said it. God it feels good to get that off my chest! *Phew*
I'm serious, I do hoard pens. But, unlike most weird obsessions (Pamela Anderson's dental floss?? Really??), there is a sound, sane, and completely logical reasoning for why I hoard pens. Two words will explain everything!!
Budget cuts.
Things are getting to ridiculous levels around our division, to the point of beating staff morale so low, the emo kids in the local psych wards are looking down at us saying "dude. You should really get some help. And while you're at it, get your own razorblades, damn it."
The most ridiculous thing about the recent budget cuts is the very expensive we move we recently (i.e., last 3 months) made into our new digs on a separate floor. Moving an Administrative staff into new offices means new office furniture for the upper level management, hiring moving crews to move all of the furniture and boxes down a few floors, paying for the new phone lines, fax lines, and data lines. Oh yeah, and not to mention the rent of the office space. It's a little hard to listen to a director complain about not having any money for anything (including paper and pens), when you're looking at her sitting in her nice, new, big office, at her very expensive new desk.
It's even harder when you know for a fact that the governor of your state recently submitted a supplemental to the house finance committee specifically for your division because of "recent increases in case loads" in an amount so ridiculously high they were actually talking about it on the news reports. (The supplemental was approved as well - making me wonder where in the hell our "budget" is going!)
I'm still quite bitter about the move too. It has a lot to do with the fact that I used to have my own office. My own little corner that I could easily focus on my work, shut the door if things got too loud out in the hallway (which it ALWAYS does), I could listen to my music, take conference calls without bothering other people, and I could eat my damn lunch in peace. Now, I sit in a very wide open area, at what was previously the reception area for whatever business occupied the space before us. I was promised more natural light! The only light I get in my area is via the huge conference room next to my area, and that's only when they leave the blinds open. I have no walls, I have no way to shut out the noise from the other occupants in my section, and oh yeah, those monthly teleconferences I have to take part in because they're fucking mandatory? It gets really hard to focus on what's being said when I've got staff walking through my area chatting away, carrying on ridiculous conversations about what diet they're on, how many miles they ran yesterday, what they're having for lunch, blah blah blah. Now, I have to sit on guard at the main door, because it's locked at all times, and you're only getting in if you have the code. If you don't, you have to knock. And take a wild fucking guess who they assigned to answer those knocks? You guessed it, me! As if I didn't already have enough to do, now I have to be a fucking door greeter too?
This is where you learn the real meaning behind "Fuck My Life!" except, in my case, it's "Fuck My Job!"
Every Wednesday I'm responsible for taking an office inventory and submitting it the powers that be so they can decide what we're going to order. This has become a joke, because other than wasting an hour of my time as I count out how many Post-It flags we have in each color, the only thing they're ordering is paper for the Xerox machine. Our office supplies have dwindled down to dangerously low levels that I'm constantly living in fear of an all-out office riot taking place. I can see it now: staff, worn down from searching desperately for just one more pen, dirty from crawling around in the dust behind their desks in hopes of finding that one lone paperclip that fell back there a year ago, when it happens.... There's a single pen! A new pen! A pen full of that wonderful, blue, euphoria inducing ink!! "If only I could sneak over there and reach it before anyone else spots it....." And then they lock eyes.... Someone else has spotted it as well, and they know the other person has seen it too... A stand-off ensues. Who's going to move in first? Eyes narrow as each waits for the other to move.... When suddenly, someone else enters the picture, completely unaware of the current stand off, grabs the pen, thankful for this bounty, and is immediately tackled by both participants of the previous stand-off, and suddenly you're in the midst of full on office warfare.
Okay, so maybe it won't happen quite to that extent, but I'm telling you, things are becoming the veritable powder keg of anxiety and bloated egos around here. This thing could go off at any moment, and only the strong and really cunning will survive this fallout.
At least when it goes down, I'll have my stash of pens to get me through the fallout.
Now, while I could go into this long rant, I just have this other subject that keeps popping into my head and pulling my attention to it, in the way that a screaming 2 year old laying on the floor of the big box chain store grabs the attention of every shopper in the area. As much as the mom really, REALLY wants everyone to just look the other way and ignore her screaming, red-faced, little terrorist with chubby cheeks... We all know it simply cannot be done.
So, that being said, I have a feeling the subject of payroll will have to wait for another time. Like say, tomorrow night, after I've wasted a perfectly good day off, sitting at my desk scrutinizing whether or not people are really so stupid that they still don't know how to figure out how to properly fill in a basic time sheet after years of state service. And yes, even after many, MANY years of employment, there is still a very large number of people who can be reduced to the same intelligence levels of a newborn pygmy goat when asked if they really came into the office on a holiday.
No, I have a confession to make tonight, and it's really hard for me to do this, so I hope you will bear with me as I unveil the source of my work place shame. Okay, here goes:
I hoard pens.
There. I said it. God it feels good to get that off my chest! *Phew*
I'm serious, I do hoard pens. But, unlike most weird obsessions (Pamela Anderson's dental floss?? Really??), there is a sound, sane, and completely logical reasoning for why I hoard pens. Two words will explain everything!!
Budget cuts.
Things are getting to ridiculous levels around our division, to the point of beating staff morale so low, the emo kids in the local psych wards are looking down at us saying "dude. You should really get some help. And while you're at it, get your own razorblades, damn it."
The most ridiculous thing about the recent budget cuts is the very expensive we move we recently (i.e., last 3 months) made into our new digs on a separate floor. Moving an Administrative staff into new offices means new office furniture for the upper level management, hiring moving crews to move all of the furniture and boxes down a few floors, paying for the new phone lines, fax lines, and data lines. Oh yeah, and not to mention the rent of the office space. It's a little hard to listen to a director complain about not having any money for anything (including paper and pens), when you're looking at her sitting in her nice, new, big office, at her very expensive new desk.
It's even harder when you know for a fact that the governor of your state recently submitted a supplemental to the house finance committee specifically for your division because of "recent increases in case loads" in an amount so ridiculously high they were actually talking about it on the news reports. (The supplemental was approved as well - making me wonder where in the hell our "budget" is going!)
I'm still quite bitter about the move too. It has a lot to do with the fact that I used to have my own office. My own little corner that I could easily focus on my work, shut the door if things got too loud out in the hallway (which it ALWAYS does), I could listen to my music, take conference calls without bothering other people, and I could eat my damn lunch in peace. Now, I sit in a very wide open area, at what was previously the reception area for whatever business occupied the space before us. I was promised more natural light! The only light I get in my area is via the huge conference room next to my area, and that's only when they leave the blinds open. I have no walls, I have no way to shut out the noise from the other occupants in my section, and oh yeah, those monthly teleconferences I have to take part in because they're fucking mandatory? It gets really hard to focus on what's being said when I've got staff walking through my area chatting away, carrying on ridiculous conversations about what diet they're on, how many miles they ran yesterday, what they're having for lunch, blah blah blah. Now, I have to sit on guard at the main door, because it's locked at all times, and you're only getting in if you have the code. If you don't, you have to knock. And take a wild fucking guess who they assigned to answer those knocks? You guessed it, me! As if I didn't already have enough to do, now I have to be a fucking door greeter too?
This is where you learn the real meaning behind "Fuck My Life!" except, in my case, it's "Fuck My Job!"
Every Wednesday I'm responsible for taking an office inventory and submitting it the powers that be so they can decide what we're going to order. This has become a joke, because other than wasting an hour of my time as I count out how many Post-It flags we have in each color, the only thing they're ordering is paper for the Xerox machine. Our office supplies have dwindled down to dangerously low levels that I'm constantly living in fear of an all-out office riot taking place. I can see it now: staff, worn down from searching desperately for just one more pen, dirty from crawling around in the dust behind their desks in hopes of finding that one lone paperclip that fell back there a year ago, when it happens.... There's a single pen! A new pen! A pen full of that wonderful, blue, euphoria inducing ink!! "If only I could sneak over there and reach it before anyone else spots it....." And then they lock eyes.... Someone else has spotted it as well, and they know the other person has seen it too... A stand-off ensues. Who's going to move in first? Eyes narrow as each waits for the other to move.... When suddenly, someone else enters the picture, completely unaware of the current stand off, grabs the pen, thankful for this bounty, and is immediately tackled by both participants of the previous stand-off, and suddenly you're in the midst of full on office warfare.
Okay, so maybe it won't happen quite to that extent, but I'm telling you, things are becoming the veritable powder keg of anxiety and bloated egos around here. This thing could go off at any moment, and only the strong and really cunning will survive this fallout.
At least when it goes down, I'll have my stash of pens to get me through the fallout.
~GG
Thursday, April 15, 2010
Another Over-Achiever Amongst Us!
Okay, so maybe I'm being a little over-ambitious tonight, or perhaps I just have SO much to talk about when it comes to my miserable work life. Or, it could simply mean I really have no "life" outside of the interwebs and work. Either way, I was taking care of some business in the bathroom (i.e., pooping), where all great ideas come from, and the thought suddenly struck me...
"Crap. (No pun intended) I've got payroll tomorrow."
So that got me thinking about how I could adequately express the nightmare that has become payroll. Because, really, this nightmare of mine would take more than an 800 page description by Stephen King to properly convey the 4+ days of hell I experience each month.
It would take an inordinate amount of time explaining "bargaining units", "flex-schedules", and how to properly calculate over-time when the work week is only 37.5 hours instead of the normal 40. And I'm pretty sure your eyes glazed over when I typed out "bargaining units".
I can tell you that there are strict deadlines for payroll, deadlines that no one seems to care about. No one cares about the deadlines because they get paid no matter when they turn in their time sheets or leave slips. Deadlines that no one else cares about because they aren't the one getting the angry phone call from the people in the capital who cut the checks, wondering why shit hasn't been done yet.
These are the same people who make payroll such a nightmare. Such as the people who have had "alternate work-weeks" for years and STILL don't know how to figure out their schedules. These are the people that send me their time sheets before they submit them TO ME, so I can review, revise and send back to them so they can then submit them.... TO ME!
This is normally where I would say "shoot me in the fucking face!" I use that expression a lot. Apparently, I would really rather be shot in the face than deal with these idiots. Of course, I can say this, having never actually been shot anywhere on my body, let alone my face.
Because I know for a fact that there are going to be at least 2 supervisors that are going to wait until the last possible second to submit time sheets, I've gotten in the habit of telling them these are due at least a full day before they actually are. Yet somehow, I still find myself staying late (uncompensated over-time, by the way), in order to ensure I can be the easiest department the capital people have to deal with.
What kills me about payroll is that I've been doing it for a little over a year now, and suddenly I'm the "go-to" person in our department. The chick ( a.k.a The Jogger - more on that later!) who had previously done payroll for quite some time, seems to have completely forgotten the process. I guess that's what happens when you ass-kiss your way into the 4th highest position in the department. You're given liberty to "forget" how to do shit. (This is especially true if you happen to have an iPhone, an iPad, or some other electronic gadget that you can roam around the office playing on while pretending to do actual work!)
I have no idea how many different ways I can state "Do not put your social security number on time sheets or leave slips. Use your employee number!" before the rest of the staff finally, FINALLY understands this concept!
I can't quite figure out the proper wording for "If you didn't work that day, do not put any hours in that day's In/Out section" either. I mean it seems fairly obvious to me what those words translate to... But then again, I'm not the one with the college degree, am I?
And I really wish that when these Bumbling Idiots (BI) get all pissy because I'm "hogging" the Xerox WorkCentre when I scan payroll to the capital that I could respond with "Fine. Cancel the damn job. But you won't get paid on time if you do!" I do payroll for over 120 employees, and when you take into consideration that at least half the staff has taken at least one day off in the past 2 weeks (which means those damn pesky leave slips), I'm scanning at least a 180 page document to our Capital People (CP). It's going to take a little bit. So either take your document to one of the other 5 WorkCentres we have, or go back to your office, do some work for once, and for the love all things Administrative, shut your fucking word hole.
One other point of contention here... And this is a topic you will most likely be seeing a LOT of reading material on, is the front desk coverage. Considering that payroll is an extremely time sensitive task, and it's on the top of the priority list (not mention that it's NOT MY JOB TO BACK UP THE FRONT DESK), you would think that these BI would get that and NOT have me back up the front desk on these particular days. But then again, if the understood that simple concept, they wouldn't really qualify under the BI category either, now would they?
Knowing that I have this awesomely fun task ahead of me tomorrow... Well, let's just say the fact that it's Friday is all that's keeping me from punching someone in the baby maker.
Well, now that I've had my sleeping pill induced payroll rant.... I'm off to hit the pillow instead of the keyboard (for the first time in a long time, my head has something to be thankful for)!
~GG
"Crap. (No pun intended) I've got payroll tomorrow."
So that got me thinking about how I could adequately express the nightmare that has become payroll. Because, really, this nightmare of mine would take more than an 800 page description by Stephen King to properly convey the 4+ days of hell I experience each month.
It would take an inordinate amount of time explaining "bargaining units", "flex-schedules", and how to properly calculate over-time when the work week is only 37.5 hours instead of the normal 40. And I'm pretty sure your eyes glazed over when I typed out "bargaining units".
I can tell you that there are strict deadlines for payroll, deadlines that no one seems to care about. No one cares about the deadlines because they get paid no matter when they turn in their time sheets or leave slips. Deadlines that no one else cares about because they aren't the one getting the angry phone call from the people in the capital who cut the checks, wondering why shit hasn't been done yet.
These are the same people who make payroll such a nightmare. Such as the people who have had "alternate work-weeks" for years and STILL don't know how to figure out their schedules. These are the people that send me their time sheets before they submit them TO ME, so I can review, revise and send back to them so they can then submit them.... TO ME!
This is normally where I would say "shoot me in the fucking face!" I use that expression a lot. Apparently, I would really rather be shot in the face than deal with these idiots. Of course, I can say this, having never actually been shot anywhere on my body, let alone my face.
Because I know for a fact that there are going to be at least 2 supervisors that are going to wait until the last possible second to submit time sheets, I've gotten in the habit of telling them these are due at least a full day before they actually are. Yet somehow, I still find myself staying late (uncompensated over-time, by the way), in order to ensure I can be the easiest department the capital people have to deal with.
What kills me about payroll is that I've been doing it for a little over a year now, and suddenly I'm the "go-to" person in our department. The chick ( a.k.a The Jogger - more on that later!) who had previously done payroll for quite some time, seems to have completely forgotten the process. I guess that's what happens when you ass-kiss your way into the 4th highest position in the department. You're given liberty to "forget" how to do shit. (This is especially true if you happen to have an iPhone, an iPad, or some other electronic gadget that you can roam around the office playing on while pretending to do actual work!)
I have no idea how many different ways I can state "Do not put your social security number on time sheets or leave slips. Use your employee number!" before the rest of the staff finally, FINALLY understands this concept!
I can't quite figure out the proper wording for "If you didn't work that day, do not put any hours in that day's In/Out section" either. I mean it seems fairly obvious to me what those words translate to... But then again, I'm not the one with the college degree, am I?
And I really wish that when these Bumbling Idiots (BI) get all pissy because I'm "hogging" the Xerox WorkCentre when I scan payroll to the capital that I could respond with "Fine. Cancel the damn job. But you won't get paid on time if you do!" I do payroll for over 120 employees, and when you take into consideration that at least half the staff has taken at least one day off in the past 2 weeks (which means those damn pesky leave slips), I'm scanning at least a 180 page document to our Capital People (CP). It's going to take a little bit. So either take your document to one of the other 5 WorkCentres we have, or go back to your office, do some work for once, and for the love all things Administrative, shut your fucking word hole.
One other point of contention here... And this is a topic you will most likely be seeing a LOT of reading material on, is the front desk coverage. Considering that payroll is an extremely time sensitive task, and it's on the top of the priority list (not mention that it's NOT MY JOB TO BACK UP THE FRONT DESK), you would think that these BI would get that and NOT have me back up the front desk on these particular days. But then again, if the understood that simple concept, they wouldn't really qualify under the BI category either, now would they?
Knowing that I have this awesomely fun task ahead of me tomorrow... Well, let's just say the fact that it's Friday is all that's keeping me from punching someone in the baby maker.
Well, now that I've had my sleeping pill induced payroll rant.... I'm off to hit the pillow instead of the keyboard (for the first time in a long time, my head has something to be thankful for)!
~GG
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)