Today's Headslapper

Well no wonder I can't find an actual job. I should have been checking ads like these. You may or more than likely may not, have been reading this blog so far, but I think my problem is obvious after seeing those ads. I have been looking in  the wrong place! Duh!

The Gift That Keeps on Giving

I was watching a segment on the news the other day about how they need psychologists in the Gulf Region because of the oil spill. The discussion was about PTSD and how people in New Orleans are still reacting to Hurricane Katrina and how long they may react to the spill.

Night before last, I had a terrible dream about the ass at my last job. He was in the back seat of my car while I was driving and he was YELLING at me about how to drive, where to turn, etc. What the fuck?  Now I get it in the dream, too? I think mental health counseling should be offered as part of this whole health reform crap. I need it. I worked for it. I suffer. All of this at the hands of people who have pretended to be smarter than me. People in charge of what I would do with my days. People who have used me.

There should be extensive testing done on people before they are allowed to own businesses and hire unsuspecting victims. Before they are promoted to positions where they are allowed to fuck with me. This can't possibly be legal. Some of my experiences can only be classified as acts of terrorism. And yet, this whole culture is completely under the radar. I say let's bring these dickwads in to the light, expose them, show them the fallout of their actions and general bad decision-making skills.

Then I will hurt them.

Oh, my bad. You're fired.

Another day, another crappy job. Today's edition features sex. lies, and video, without the sex and video. I know, deceptive. But that's exactly what they were!!! I got this job as a bookkeeper and assistant to the controller at an employment agency. The irony, right?

This agency was for placement of engineers and they were making major dough. It was owned by this married couple and everyone there, except the controller, had been there from the beginning. So the controller hires me because he needs help and I spent a solid week looking for shit to do. He kept saying help was needed with billing so I was pretty much stalking the woman that was doing it so she would show me how, blah, blah, blah.

Finally, two weeks go by and I'm talking to this woman and asking her for the brazillianth time what the fuck I was supposed to be doing. She finally says it's time for us to "talk". Oooookaaaayyyy. Here we go again. It turns out they had sold the company and hadn't yet told the controller because they were afraid he'd leave before they could close on the deal and no one knew how to do what he did.

While they were waiting for the closing, the dude hired me! Fucking true story. So I was let go. Again. They didn't need or want me. Again.

Is it really too much to ask for a little sanity in the workplace???? This shit has been the theme of my entire working life. One asshole after another. A never-ending stream of dipshits, hoo-hahs, and brain damaged fucking idiots.

Out of the mouths of Bankers

Late 80's I'm working for this really big land developer. If you remember your history, the late 80's was a big hot mess for the banking industry. Let's just say no lessons were learned for our present situation.

When the owner was finished spending the money on...well, I don't know where the money went...the banks holding the loans were called in to sell off the remaining assets and shut us down. Our company was HUGE and the process was excruciating. The banks would send these stereotypical (almost comical) type A's with black suits, sensible pumps, and the requisite Starbucks lattes.

These were dedicated, high-strung, conservative bankers. Not what we're used to. So they would come, huddle us worker-bees around them, tell us what they wanted, and then spend the rest of the day behind mysterious closed doors. Working on their intimidating, authority voices, probably.

It took maybe half a day for us to see we definitely had different styles and certainly we were lacking in the latest lexicon buzz words du jour. Every once in a while, a drone would emerge and ask for something and then disappear again. This one lady kept coming out of her office and asking me to get stuff for her. She'd bring it back like 2 minutes later and frantically tell me this was not what she wanted.

We played this tennis game for about 3 hours and finally she comes flying around the corner, beads of sweat on her upper lip, yelling at me to get this certain document. I told her I had given it to her already. Well get it for me again!! I did. This is not what I want!!! Well, what can I do for you then? Then she says-I am NOT making this up-"I don't know what I want, but I want it NOW."

Oh yeah. For almost 20 years, this has been my go-to sentence when I'm frustrated and pissed. It has become my alternative to Fuuuucckkkkkk!!!!

Mind Reader? Seriously?

So in the summer of 2008, I was looking for a job and a friend (one of my more sane friends) recommended me for a job as an administrative assistant. She told me this guy had had a very bad experience in 2007 with his long-time business partner. It seems the partner had taken this guy's (let's call him Dan, shall we?) business model, clients, the whole shebang, and left Dan and his wife just short of homeless. This couple had a courier business and they decided to try to rebuild.

Dan was offering me fairly good dough for the job but he was pretty vague about what exactly he needed. I'm a flexible, usually bright kind of gal, so the lack of structure was not all that intimidating. On my first day, he put me in his office and told me to listen and watch everything he did. By his own admission, he couldn't explain what he wanted, so he needed for me to figure it out. I am not making this up.

So pretty much every half-hour or so, his cell rings and he goes out the back door to take the call. The first couple of times, he would motion with his hand like he was telling me he'd be right back, etc. So while he's on these calls, I'm looking around for stuff to do. He has NO files, no office supplies-this man is not prepared for anything. So I systematically start doing the normal things you need for a functional work environment and he lets me order anything I want; doesn't ask any questions, just continues with the mysterious outside calls.

I'm trying to earn my salary, so I start asking a bunch of questions and check out the rest of the staff, etc. In the middle of the second week, Dan says he wants to talk with me. I'm thinking he finally has an idea organized concerning my position. What he actually wants is for me to stay in "our" office. Dan says I "don't need to know" what everyone else does or who the clients are or how we can cut down expenses, blah, blah, blah. My job is to assist him.

Well, Okay. I spend another week trying to "assist" him, but he doesn't answer any questions and won't let me answer the phone, nothing! Day 15, end of week three, he tells me he has to let me go. I am ineffective, he says. In what way? I ask. Dan looks directly in to my eyes and said, "I really need for you to read my mind."

I give this half a beat to sink in and ask him what he means by that exactly. He tells me that after three weeks, he can see that I am unable to "sense" what he needs and he's looking for someone "in sync" with him. He had a check already prepared, and before I could respond at all, he walks me to my car and wishes me the best of luck.

THIS is sadly only ONE of the reasons I needed this blog-outlet. I could lose my mind, but this seems easier.

My Toes Are All Better

One of the really crappy jobs I've had involved an externship at a hospital in the pharmacy. Not a single window anywhere, the oldest building ever without actually falling down, and oh yeah, in not so many years past, this same hospital had a little problem with um...communication. That is to say there was more than one instance in which a doctor cut off the wrong limb and took out the wrong organ.

So my first week there, I followed around other pharmacy techs while they delivered the meds to the pyxis machines. Once an hour, for the full eight hours, we walked the entire length, breadth, and width of the hospital. This worked out to about 15 miles a day. This was in addition to the other stuff you had to do BEFORE you could even start the deliveries.

At the end of the first week, my toes were black. I don't mean like bruise black. I'm talking ink black. I had blisters and back aches. This was an unpaid externship. Yep. No money changed hands for this. This lasted for one month. Four weeks. 20 days. When it was over, I truly did not think I would ever walk normally again. Every step was complete agony. If I was a dog, I would have been humanely let go. Gladly, I might add. That was August, 2009. It is now June, 2010, and for the first time since my fabulous learning gig, my feet look like they are supposed to look. Yep-10 months recovery time.

Sadly, I would not even count this as one of my crappiest jobs. Yes, there have been worse. The paid ones have been worse. Stay tuned. I'll be more than happy to share them with you.

First Posting. If you care.

I have no problem admitting I'm bitter and pissed. For the brazillianth time, I have been laid off. As in, Get the fuck out, we don't need you anymore. We once did. Badly. But now-well, business sucks and we frankly can't have a bunch of hangers-on around here.


I've been holding this crap in long enough and now I'm just going to explode. I have no plans for this blog exactly, but I will be using it to express myself. I'm not even going to pretend this is a place for the warm and fuzzies or even for that matter, interesting reading. Please don't piss me off because I WILL call you out on it. So if you want to say something moronic like "Wow-you are a bitter bitch." or "I hate your blog." or something equally obvious, I will then feel compelled to tell everyone how you, too, have pissed me off.

But, I'm not all mad. Just mostly. Right now anyway.