Well, it's become apparent to me that my rage over the whole Aqua Girl/NBM phone thing is not going to subside. Guess I'm just going to do what I do best: blog about it.
So today was a veritable meal of the stupid. Think I'm kidding? Let me just warm you up with an appetizer.
I had physical therapy today. As we all know, this is the high point of my week...it's the one place where I come out feeling way lousier than I did when I went in. After last week's session, while I could lift my left arm, I had a throbbing, stabbing six day headache.
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| Everything you see here is a pain level of 5 or more. All the time. Especially when Cruella pokes at it. |
I told 98 pound Cruella that I was operating with headache pain of a about a 5. (she always asks me to rate my pain on a scale of one to ten. It's usually about a seven, but since I've had the same pain in my head for a week, I was really sort of getting used to it. Like John Mayer music...it's not quite so awful when it's on all the time. She had me lie on the table and said, "Not many people can function at a five."
Well, one, I'm not like most people. I function because I have no choice. What, I'm not going to go to work? I'm not going to get paid? I'm not going to be able to pay my bills? Lady, I have to function at a pain level of a five because I don't have a choice in the matter.
Then she began a new series of poking on my skull. It seems she went to a seminar over the weekend and learned a bunch of new stuff. She was excited to try it out on me. Much of it involved putting pressure on my throat...pretty much choking me.
Oh good.
Well now after she tried, and this is what she told me she was doing, to push my skull plates back into place, my headache pain is now an 8. So there's that.
Now, the salad.
Most of you know I sell party lite candles and gifts. Most of the time I enjoy it, but I do have some stories I wish were not in my arsenal. Closing the party today would be one of those stories. I feel for the hostess, I really do. But she didn't close the party the day of the party because no one showed up. So I gave her a week and we were to meet on Monday. But she couldn't on Monday because she hadn't gotten the money from everyone. So she could meet me today...well I had to cancel my hair/waxing/nail appointment (and now I really look hideous) but I met her. She brought her two kids...which would be fine, except the one decided that rather than sit in a chair for twenty minutes and sniff my candles or draw on my catalogs or (since MOM didn't bring any books/toys/electronics/benedryl for the kid) eat food I offered to buy, he wanted to run back and forth across the drive through of the coffee shop and throw rocks in every direction.
One hit me. I've never been hit by a rock in the line of duty as a candle lady before. It's a new experience.
Mom did very little. The kid still got a cupcake at the end of the thing, and now I had a pain rating of a six on my six. (Anyone who gets that joke is my new BFF.)
Oh, and the money she had to wait for from her guests? Yeah, she wrote big check and told me not to cash it until the weekend.
You think I'd be done...but now we're to the main meal.
If you follow me on Face Book, you know that Noelle C is gone and has been replaced by the first person who didn't run away from Lumbergh when he talked about the details of the job. So we have Aqua Girl. She's a young girl, almost half my age, but she seemed willing to work the hours of the job and that, apparently, is all Lumbergh needed.
A phone voice...nope, she doesn't have that. She sort of barks into the phone.
Grammar. Nope. The word "like" and "uuuuuummmmmmmmm" and "Nope" are the only three she uses. And she uses those way, way, way too much. I can't even listen to her.
Skill at her job. That remains to be seen. She has zero initiative, which means I have to keep telling her what to do. And, since she's making more money per hour than I am, that grates on me.
But I could overlook all that, and I did, until Thursday of last week.
See, on Thursday, Lumbergh sent out an email to the office "girls." (Yes, I live in Mad Men times and I'm a girl and he's the guy who...whatever, I'm getting off point.) Lumbergh is a guy who can't talk to a person and tell them what they are doing wrong. He has to send an email to everyone who might fall under the same department. In the past I've been reprimanded by email for leaving food out on the counter, being late, not making enough calls, and taking too long of breaks (all Elsie's issues.) I've been reprimanded for arguing with the sales guys, not booking sales appointments the proper way, not making enough phone calls, and being unable to make a decision for myself (all Noelle C's issues.) And now, now I've been informed that I can no longer have my cell phone on or in site of my desk because the use of texting has been far too much.
Let's take a stab at who that really was directed to.
I'm not saying she's lazy. I'm saying she spends a lot of time playing with her phone during work hours and her defense is there's nothing on the reminder list for that particular hour. I'm saying she spends more time fiddling with her Pandora account than learning our database and I'm saying that I now have lost a work tool I was actually using to contact sales guys, install guys, and my other boss. I brought this to Lumbergh's attention, and he doesn't care. He also doesn't care that my phone is a lifeline to my children...and it's been a rough several weeks. Contact with my kids is vital at this point, and he knows it.
But, since he can't tell the pretty new girl to stop shopping on Amazon and actually WORK, I don't get to have my phone available.
Now, this enraged me. And then there's the fact that she is incapable of taking a phone message.
Most people, when they take a phone message, write down the name, the number, and the reason a person called. Nope this girl, nope. She'll slouch into work and look at me and bark out, "Did that guy call back?"
"What guy?"
"That guy. He called last night. I think he had a leak or something."
People, I talk to dozens of people a day, for almost as many reasons.
But wait, there's more. The only thing worse than the way she doesn't take phone messages is the way you think she's taking phone messages.
This is an actual conversation I actually had with her today"
Her: Judy.
Me: Judy what?
Her: Judy called.
Me: Judy who?
Her: Judy the installer who works here.
Me: We don't have a Judy the installer.
Her: Maybe it was Jimmy.
Me: Maybe it was Jim?
Her: Ummmm, yeah. Maybe it was. He said you called him.
Me: Dialing Jim. Talking to Jim. Hanging up the phone.
Phone: Sounds the ring for when someone is on hold too long.
Me: Is someone on hold?
Her: Yeah, the guy.
Me: What guy?
Her: The guy, the installer guy, what's his name?
Me: JIM?
Her: Ummm, yeah. Jim.
Me: I just talked to him.
Her: Oh, cuz like, you called him? Oh yeah, he was, like, on hold.
Me: Shoot me now.
So, let's review. She's not that bright. She has no initiative. She has to be fed every piece of work. She lazy. She makes more money than I do. I have to train her every day on everything all the time. AND NOW I can't have my phone in sight to help me do my job better and keep in contact with my kids.
I'm trying to think of a good name for this new disaster. I was thinking Pandora, because it's where she spends 6 of the 8 hours of her work day, but I think I need to see what you all would like to call her. Leave me messages here or on my face book page and I will decide a winner sometime very soon.
And now, dessert.
I realize my mom means well and that she wants my neck pain to go away. But I swear, if she shows up to my work one more time like she did today I'm going to lose my mind.
She walked in carrying a box. I got off the phone and looked at her.
Mom: I brought my vibrator for you.
Nope, not making it up. Now, the thing you need to know is that it's not THAT kind of vibrator. This is one of those deals that is supposed to help relax shoulder and back muscles.
Mom: I have your father use this on me every night.
Boss, new girl, both listening. JUST SHOOT ME NOW.
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