Instead, I had to sit at the desk of the person who called in "sick." I hate taking over a person's desk, even though this is a company where that happens from time to time. I have a desk of my own. Not many people in the departments I work in can say that, and that is a privilege I don't take for granted. (Actually, it's one of the few perks I get at this job that I still enjoy.) I would be bothered if someone just fuckin' bogarted my desk just because. It may be out of necessity, but I invaded my co-worker's space, and I was not happy all day. And, to be honest, I hated the setup of his area. He has no space for me to write, which I had to do constantly during the workday. And I had all these calls I needed to make, and somehow he has his desk phone so recessed against the partition that I had to strain whenever I made a call, which was about 30 times. That was an annoying pain-in-the-ass.
Finally, since I was in a department I hadn't worked in in a while, there were a few different protocols I had to follow. I was told about these new procedures, or at least I believe I was told about them; I just hadn't put them into practice because I hadn't worked in this department in a long while. One of them were these phone calls. I would normally do my best to skip them, or at least half-ass them, but I was told that my boss and his bosses were cracking down, so I needed to do them. So that was 30 calls (more than I have ever made in a day while working for this company), and 30 times I had to reach out to the phone, grab the receiver, make sure I don't drop the receiver so it snaps back to the console, reach out to punch the number in, wait for someone to pick up, and once I was done, put a tick mark on a Post-It (to keep track of how many calls I made, which is something I was told to do when I began training, to be fair) and reach out to put the receiver back in the cradle. That took half of my day. I know that in this job I could have been way more productive doing something else that making some goddamn calls.
Moreover, I was told that some quirk I just ignored during the course of my workday suddenly became important. Sometimes we fax, and sometimes these faxes don't go through. We are given these e-mails saying so, but I just ignored them because I was never told to care. Well, apparently I do have to care now. I need to go through the e-mail, identify which specific fax it was, determine if I was the one who faxed it, then figure out what to do to make that fax go through. I needed to do that three times. I wound up e-mailing instead of faxing twice. Do you know how much time that took? That is another distraction from the main task of this job, and I am embarrassed that I basically spent only half a day doing that main task, and instead building up all these forms to pass on to my co-worker, who may or may not have the time to do it herself.
Finally -- and I haven't thought about this much, even though if I were in a different mindset this would be the thing that triggers me -- my supervisor was trying out something for the printer, and we were told to look out for it while going through the course of our day. I wanted to know who was doing it and why, and I asked my supervisor so. And from around the corner, my boss, who I think was on his phone talking to a co-worker, I think shouted in answer to my legitimate question, "Doesn't matter!" Uh, excuse me? At that point I was already in a pissed-off mood, so my mood didn't change. Did it worsen? Believe it or not, I might have to think about it. But let me say this: If I weren't so busy doing other things tonight, you better believe I would be pounding the online want ads again. And I hope to get around to doing that this week.
I can't remember a day at this job where I was so looking forward to getting out. Unfortunately I had to come back to the building because I forgot to fucking take the banana and peach Pepsi I brought.
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About that banana: I just ate it -- with a knife so I could carve out the bruised parts. I sliced off a piece on its side, but the banana was so heavy that it tipped over and tore off. Thankfully I was eating this over the kitchen wastebasket. Sadly, about 60-5% of the banana fell into it. Most of it looked like a banana, too. What a waste. And I will admit that I thought for a good, oh, 15 seconds to pick it up and eat the parts that haven't touched the trash. But I didn't, I swear.
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Oh, and I wanted to go out and work on the things I needed to work on last/Monday night. I wanted to go to Pryes Brewing because there were no events going on. But when I drove across the place was packed. I guess there was an event: It's a Monday night and it was beautiful out. So I drove to Caffetto (which was not packed, which surprised me; I didn't plan on going there because I thought it was going to be packed) and did all I needed to do.
And then, as I reached home, the goddamn low tire pressure light came on. Yeah, this is what I get for trying to blow off some steam by driving around town. I rushed out to check the pressure on the tires, even though I checked them just before I left work. The driver's-side front had way more air than the passenger's-side front, but all of them had enough air. I went inside to grab my headlamp and tried again, just because -- same pressure levels. And then I lost the valve cap to one of the tires. Luckily I had a spare cap in my car.
I'll get the old valve cap (and make it my spare) as I roll down the car in the morning. That's after I check the tires to make absolutely sure none of the tires deflate. If so, this fucking trash day is going to become a fucking trash streak, and I don't need that shit, even though I'll text my boss to say I'm late because of my car, and that means I won't have to go into work, and that's actually fucking fine by me.
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