is this why they call it WORK?
I spent most of this morning on the phone with various fuckwits trying to accomplish what SHOULD be fairly simple tasks. When I went to lunch I handed off ONE stinkingly stupid little task to the boss’s son (who I generally adore). Did he take care of it? NO. It was taking me longer to explain this simple request to him than it would for me to handle it myself (which I believe was his intention). So now I’m on the phone yet again, listening to a recording telling me every 30 seconds for the next 45 minutes that all service representatives are currently smacking the python. On top of which I ask BossMan to DELEGATE a simple errand to somebody [by “somebody” I mean “not me”], as in for example his lazy-arse daughter who is supposed to be our marketing rep but who basically drains the company profits by spending all day shopping. BossMan emails me (as he was too scared to tell me in person) saying to call his wife and get her to run the errand. Which she will gladly do in between walking their dogs and getting a manicure. Only problem? she’ll keep me on the bloody phone for 20 minutes. I’m not in the least bit pissy right now, despite that I can feel the hot, pungent breath of the PMS Monster on the back of my neck. As soon as I get off this call I’m going to ring the post office … and check into ammunition.
Current Mood: 
aggravated