The Fourth Department Has Been Bullshit All Week

I've been working The Fourth Department since Wednesday.  Any levity in workload, any thought that things would get easier the more I work in it, both sentiments have been completely and utterly dashed this week.  I've worked ten hours Wednesday and yesterday and still didn't get all my work done.

It's damn near impossible to do.  The guy I and two others are replacing did as much work but got done completely on time.  He didn't look like he broke a sweat, either.  The guy's like freakin' Jesus.  I mean, how the fuck did he do it?

So many damn forms that have problems with it.  The main reason things seemed to calm down to the point where I could leave eight-ish hours after I get there is because of workload.  But there are so many eff-ups in these things that I have had to leave work over for the next day ... but the workload isn't dissipating, so there is even more work that I am leaving for myself this morning.  Beyond that, this position requires pivoting between several different things, and each of them takes so much concentration that jumping into something else is like trying to steer an aircraft carrier 180 degrees in your mind.  Finally, this is the job where people ask you to do things the guy before me knew very well, but I throw my hands up to.  And finding out who to go to about this particular problem takes an hour off my day and pushes all the stuff I need to do further down my day, and so it extends my day to ten hours.  (Oh yeah -- assholes.  I have to deal with assholes too.)

I'm now resigned to being there an extra two hours whenever I work in The Fourth Department.  Getting everything done even 15 minutes before ten hours will be a damn miracle.  Hell, I would have the urge to stay longer than ten hours, but after ten I think I will get the unwanted attention of my boss and a lot of people on the Human Resources side.  Now, that's not to say I'll be sanguine about my fate as long as I work there.  I can feel my heart palpating and the fascia on my left side tense up from all the crap I have to deal with back there.  Hell, after work tonight I might get so pissed off I'll quit.  No guarantees -- that I'll stay either on the job or alive.

With Fourth Department Jesus leaving and no plans for a full-time replacement in the intermediate future, I will be back there many, many days for many, many months to come.  I have always, always gone out to have a drink or two to wring out the stress after working in this department.  But knowing that I'll be back there way more often, I don't think it's good for my wallet nor my liver to immediately play hard after working hard every single day I'm filling in there.  So I'm trying to exhibit some self-control by immediately going home and trying to both moderate my diet and exercise more.  For example, last/Thursday night I wanted to just work out on the stairstepper at home, eat a smoothie, shower and go to bed.  But I was so keyed up from frustration after work, plus I needed to do some things on the Internet, that I hastily made a sandwich for myself and then ate Dot's Pretzels dipped in Top The Tater (you can't a more Minnesota culinary two-fer than that).  Still worked out and still had that smoothie, but I still feel fat.  And then all I could think of us, "Damn, I could use a drink."

I'm saving that for tonight, at a clandestine bar close to an art show very close by.  I think I deserve to treat myself after a crap week that still seemed long even though I am working only four days in the week.