Thursday, September 3, 2009

When Pills Aren't Enough - Parental Advisory Explicit Lyrics

IS THIS SHIT REALLY HAPPENING??or...How to win friends and influence people in the office.... Unbelievable. Un-fucking-believable. I swear, the only reason I stay is because I need the job. If I wouldn't lose my house, I'd quit tomorrow. This place is a fucking zoo. I should have known that going to work in a political office was going to be a fucking nightmare. I'm just lucky (or maybe THEY are) that I haven't beat the shit out of someone yet.
So, get this: I've been here for 16 months. I work, ahem, worked for a presidential appointee. When January 21st rolled around, she was unemployed. So, three months later two new appointees come in. The Big Giant Head and his third in charge. The Big Giant Head (heretofore called BGH) brought in his own assistant, so the assistant that had been at that desk for 16 years comes to my desk. I was assisting the third in charge (heretofore called Sneaky Bitch or SB). They moved me to assist the second in charge, who is not here and won't be here until the winter time. I hope you can follow this better than I can....So, for the last eight fucking months, your taxpayer dollars have been hard at work paying me big $$$ to sit at a desk, write a blog, facebook, email, do online courses and basically spin my blonde ass around in a chair until I got dizzy. SB moved me to assist the BGH's assistant Queen Bee (are you following this?) so she could get to know the Who's Who of The Agency. While I sat at a NEW desk, listening to her make phone calls to the wrong people, calling people by the wrong name, telling people the wrong name of the person in the meeting with the BGH I would try to tell her Who's Who during our moments alone. The last time I tried, she put her hand up (think, "talk to the hand") and told me she didn't care. So, I basically told her to fuck herself (but much more politely). I lasted a whole week with her. They moved me back to my old desk from April to July, EXTENDING my working hours to do nothing all day. Well, not nothing. I put the newspapers on our cute table and made copies from 7-8 in the morning. So from 8-4:30, I did nada. Zilch. Nothing. At $30 an hour. Taxpayers' expense.
So, I took a day of leave in July. The next day, I come to work and they tell me in no uncertain terms to "pack your shit, you're moving. You probably shouldn't count on coming back to the Office of the BGH." OK, cool! I've got a new job! One that will keep me busy!! Alright!! So, I moved across the hall to work for, let's see, we'll call her Face with Two-Sides. Seems everything was going great! I was busy, I was keeping her happy, I was planning The Agency stuff, everything. Now, here's where the politics step in. In this particular office, there is a 25 year old boy. Sorry--man. He works here because he was little fetch and tote in the big Capitol building up the street. He's a favor. First job out of college. He's been here two months. He's a fucking little pussy, ass-kissing, brown nosing, power-tripping piece of guano. He is actually junior to me. He wasn't my boss. He isn't ANYBODY'S boss, but he really thinks he is. He and I were working on a couple of projects together. Needless to say, if you can't tell by my description, we didn't get along so well. So, I walk into his office to let him know of a conference call. You know, "Hey Guano, there's a conference call on the mating habits of squirrels in 15 minutes." He gets in my face about "withholding" information from him because I didn't tell him the subject??? WTF???? So, in my best retired Navy drill instructor, Marine Corps wife, aircraft carrier flight deck-running jet mechanic bitch voice, I tell him not to use that tone. Period. Don't EVER talk to me like that again. End of conversation.
But, it wasn't. If only it were that easy. I send him a very detailed email about the project. Now, think "Office Space"...."Ummmm, yeah. I don't get your email" he says as he walks into my cube. "What don't you get, Guano? It's very easy. It has all the required information. Don't you read English?"
His response? "Baby, you need to calm down." That didn't calm me down. I freaked. I flipped the fuck out. Could have probably handled it better, yes. But I freaked. I was completely in his face. It wasn't pretty. "Did you just call me 'baby'? 'Baby???' Are you fucking serious??? I'm a forty something woman, you don't call me 'baby'. Not in the office, not in the hallway, nowhere." Again, I thought that was the end of the conversation. As you guessed, it wasn't.
He went to Mouth with Two-Sides who went to Sneaky Bitch who went to the Big Giant Head. FIVE DAYS LATER, I get called in to THE office (put in soap opera suspense music here). "Do you get along with Guano?" "No sir, I don't." "Have you had a bad week?" "No sir, I haven't." A few questions later, this one is my fave, "Do we need to get you some help?" They didn't even ask my side. What they did was tell me pack my shit and they were transferring me to another division. OH, and if I can find a new job outside The Agency in three weeks? I won't get a letter of reprimand in my personnel file.

So, what's the lesson here? NEVER, EVER, EVER work in a political office. Not office politics, political office. Because if you're just a permanent person with a career here, you don't even match up to the people that are here on a term basis and you certainly won't win against their friends.
How did I handle it??? I got drunk. ALL WEEKEND LONG. A bottle of tequila and a case of beer, all weekend. I was doing shots at some BBQ we were at and I have no idea what they helped. I came back to work with a whole new fuck you attitude...But, I'm keeping it to myself.

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