Another Monday Posting

Oh, today was a gem.

Buzz - slap - snooze. Scrabbling with my gloved hand to shut that annoying buzzer up, I awoke to discover my entire body was seized up and sore - payback for yesterday's 25k run outside on unseasoned legs. Why my shoulders ached is still a mystery.

I dragged myself to the coffee pot and back, quads screaming for mercy. Somebody was drilling upstairs, and the landlady was giving instructions to the rough-looking youth who cleans the floors. Then began the daily drill of trying to find clothes to wear to work (one day, I know I will be denied entry because I look homeless).

I make it to the office and head down to the meeting... but I'd forgotten my pass at my desk and promptly found myself stranded in the stairwell. Everyone I knew was in that meeting too, so I climbed back up the stairs and stood outside the door with a forlorn, sheepish look on my face, hoping to gather sympathy. (Of course, I did try the doorbell first, but it wasn't working).

The puzzled woman who let me in gave me a long glance of thinly-veiled suspicion (oh, THIS was the day to wear the suit, geez) and I mumbed something I hoped was harmless as I dashed back for my pass.

The day wore on with monotony. Computer problems kept me from being as "productive" as usual, and the patience of the tech dudes - after a week of the same crap - was wearing thin. Little did they know, that complaining in French was not a good way to hide their annoyance from me (and come on, it wasn't my fault!) I stifled a laugh as the guy walked away, secure in his knowledge that I couldn't understand. I felt like saying something outrageous back, but of course, this is a professional workplace.

So I worked hard all day Friday to make use of this helpful little plug-in with Excel. I think I condensed 10 hours of work into 1. I tought myself a new application with the help of a manual, I made a new report; I felt proud of myself. For 15 minutes at least. And then my boss says: "Oh yeah, I use that sometimes" just like that, you know, like, "Oh, I drink Tim's coffee before work" and "Yeah, that carpet needs cleaning". When he is questioned on it though, he gets flustered. It soon becomes obvious he doesn't know the capabilities of the program. "Oh, well I didn't have as much time to play around with it like she did."

Of course he didn't. No way. 8 hours of work could save 9 hours each month for an indefinite period but no, he didn't have that time.

And hey, I was busy too, all that frickin' nose-picking I have to do ya know? Geez, don't overwork me, changing font size and colour and cell shading, wow, that is certainly taxing my brain.

I don't respond to "hey kiddo". I won't bring your lunch, stir your coffee or kiss your ass. My self-esteem doesn't hang on what you think of my meeting minutes. What do you get then?

Some brains, some passion, a pinch of enthusiasm and a whole fucking tonne of work ethic.
Bring it on; give me all you've got.