I AM HERE TO REGISTER MY DISPLEASURE
Jul. 9th, 2009 09:20 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
fadagaskiDisclaimer: I am quite drunk. I intend to be more drunk by the end of this post. Ergo, post will be nonsensical.
Today I lost my rag at work. BIG TIME. Actually, it was after official close of business. However, I was in the office with 2 members of staff and THE BOSS, the one who owns the company and can have me kicked to the curb in 2.3 seconds flat. So. That was pleasant.
I don't lose my temper. I get annoyed. I get agitated. I rant. There are exactly 2 people on this planet that can piss me off. One of them is my sister. The other is![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
shei. Even then, we normally get on perfectly. Distance = heart = fonder, or something. I don't like to lose control of myself like that.
What caused it? The stupidest fucking thing. I asked 1 guy 1 thing to help me out in cleaning up the office (not an official job aspect, but I'm nice and decide to help the manager out as much as I can). I asked him to make sure everything in his area that could be cleaned up or stacked up was done. 18:10 rolls around, and I've just finished emptying the bins. I come to his desk area. There are piles of envelopes on the floor.
And I just flipped.
He says they weren't his mess. WELL SO FUCKING WHAT?!!? You think I fill 8 bins to brimming? You think I drink 8 different cups of coffee? You think I track all that dirt and food into the floor? NO. FFS, it doesn't fucking matter if it's "your mess" or not!! If I ask you one tiny thing to help me out so THE BOSS stops riding my ass over the state of the office, then fucking well do it!! I already sweep the floor, wash the cups, empty the bins, clean the desks, and lock up at night even half an hour after close of business when people are still there chatting.
And next time I flip out - which will happen, inevitably, because I am overworked and underpaid and sorely tempted to bring this up with my manager - DON'T FUCKING LAUGH AT MY NERVOUS BREAKDOWN.
JESUS H. CHRIST.
Tomorrow I will man up and apologise to both you, because you've practically secured my 2nd job, and to New Guy, who I hit in the back pretty hard because I DO NOT KNOW HOW TO COPE WITH EXCESS RAGE AND HE WAS THERE LAUGHING AT ME. I will also email THE BOSS and excuse my despicable behaviour, because it was unprofessional to blow up in front of the guy who can hand me my P45 in a heartbeat. But I still think my point was valid. When I ask you nicely to clean something up when you've heard THE BOSS ride me about it, do it; and if you don't do it, don't expect me to take it laying (lying?) down.
My mum had it right: I am wasted in this job. I've never wanted to get into Berkeley more.
Icon: Because maybe I don't love it, but at least Chris Pine is pretty when he's beat to hell.
ETA: Also, I feel like absolute shit complaining about all this crap because my BFF-cum-almost-sister has got a BARIN in her brain and will be undergoing radiation therapy shit and her life obviously sucks way more than mine and I am STILL drinking to distract myself from the trauma of losing my temper. OMFG.
Today I lost my rag at work. BIG TIME. Actually, it was after official close of business. However, I was in the office with 2 members of staff and THE BOSS, the one who owns the company and can have me kicked to the curb in 2.3 seconds flat. So. That was pleasant.
I don't lose my temper. I get annoyed. I get agitated. I rant. There are exactly 2 people on this planet that can piss me off. One of them is my sister. The other is
shei. Even then, we normally get on perfectly. Distance = heart = fonder, or something. I don't like to lose control of myself like that.What caused it? The stupidest fucking thing. I asked 1 guy 1 thing to help me out in cleaning up the office (not an official job aspect, but I'm nice and decide to help the manager out as much as I can). I asked him to make sure everything in his area that could be cleaned up or stacked up was done. 18:10 rolls around, and I've just finished emptying the bins. I come to his desk area. There are piles of envelopes on the floor.
And I just flipped.
He says they weren't his mess. WELL SO FUCKING WHAT?!!? You think I fill 8 bins to brimming? You think I drink 8 different cups of coffee? You think I track all that dirt and food into the floor? NO. FFS, it doesn't fucking matter if it's "your mess" or not!! If I ask you one tiny thing to help me out so THE BOSS stops riding my ass over the state of the office, then fucking well do it!! I already sweep the floor, wash the cups, empty the bins, clean the desks, and lock up at night even half an hour after close of business when people are still there chatting.
And next time I flip out - which will happen, inevitably, because I am overworked and underpaid and sorely tempted to bring this up with my manager - DON'T FUCKING LAUGH AT MY NERVOUS BREAKDOWN.
JESUS H. CHRIST.
Tomorrow I will man up and apologise to both you, because you've practically secured my 2nd job, and to New Guy, who I hit in the back pretty hard because I DO NOT KNOW HOW TO COPE WITH EXCESS RAGE AND HE WAS THERE LAUGHING AT ME. I will also email THE BOSS and excuse my despicable behaviour, because it was unprofessional to blow up in front of the guy who can hand me my P45 in a heartbeat. But I still think my point was valid. When I ask you nicely to clean something up when you've heard THE BOSS ride me about it, do it; and if you don't do it, don't expect me to take it laying (lying?) down.
My mum had it right: I am wasted in this job. I've never wanted to get into Berkeley more.
Icon: Because maybe I don't love it, but at least Chris Pine is pretty when he's beat to hell.
ETA: Also, I feel like absolute shit complaining about all this crap because my BFF-cum-almost-sister has got a BARIN in her brain and will be undergoing radiation therapy shit and her life obviously sucks way more than mine and I am STILL drinking to distract myself from the trauma of losing my temper. OMFG.
