Not A Good Day At Work

You know, feeling relaxed at work might not be the worst thing in the world.  It dawned on me during work yesterday that with all the staring out into space, checking the home page on my workdesk's homepage when I open up the Internet and drinking coffee I do these days, someone might have caught me and thought to himself or herself, "Wow, that dude's lazy."  And if that person is in a position of authority or is in a position to complain to one of my bosses, it could permanently end any faint chance I have of landing a full-time job with these guys ... or it could cut my time with this current project short.

But what happened yesterday might be worse than any perception I've been slacking.  First of all I complained to the woman I'm working with right now (the one who caught me talking to myself and acting out in the break room yesterday) that the numbers don't match.  I gave off the impression that I did everything I could and that the numbers were wrong.  Well, I didn't think she would do this, but she made me sit down with her as we went line by line though each consent form.  We finally came across a name, the name, that I skipped.  If I had made sure I checked off his charges and disallowances, like she says she always does, the numbers would have balanced and we would not have had to waste upwards of an hour doing this.  What metaphorical egg on my face.

Later in the afternoon I had kind of dragged out this list I needed to send online.  I vaguely remember her and my boss talking about more payments that needed to be posted, but I thought I could take it easy and do this list, um, "thoroughly."  Hey, you only live once, might as well go at your own pace, right?  Well, I finally felt guilty and sent the thing about a half-hour before my day was over.  I straddled myself in the worst possible place: Too early for me to end my day, too late for me to start anything new.

Nevertheless, I spoke to the woman about starting the next task, these payments.  She flatly told me, "No."  She's a crusty bitch, but I think she's seen the worst part of me and can relate, so I guess we have a simpatico.  Saying that, I was kind of taken aback by her bluntness, and admittedly I got a little scared.  If she was going to this next task herself, what is left for me to do?  And if there's nothing left for me to do, will I be let go?

And then there's this: Is she just saying she'll do it herself because it's better that way, or is she disappointed in how I did yesterday?