Five for Friday: 5 reasons Michael Scott would be an upgrade.

Good morning!

My issues with coworkers at Stuff, Installed is well documented both in this blog and in my two books, "Not While I'm Chewing" and Unsafe at Any Speed..

  We all know the workplace is a tremendous gold mine for humor.  Just look at movies like, "Office Space" or the wonderful TV comedy, "The Office."  There have been many boss-directed jokes in movies like "Horrible Bosses" or in TV shows like "Rules of Engagement."  (Timmy, I feel your pain.)

We all work at jobs and the vast majority of us are working in jobs we don't particularly adore, but hey it fits our schedules and it pays the bills...sort of.  Besides, if we really think about it, the people we work with are pretty cool, most of the time, and at the end of the day, it's not a terrible way to live.

Well, I thought that about my job until this week.  With Elsie W. and Noelle C. a distant memory, I've been pretty happy at work.  

And then I realized something:

My boss might be a horrible boss. He might be a child unable to do any job other than management...because that's where he can do the least amount of damage to the day to day work at Stuff, Installed.

I was thinking this yesterday, when, reviewing my week, I realized that TV disaster boss Michael Scott might just be an upgrade from NBM.

Don't believe me?

Here are five things NBM did this week that proves Michael Scott would be, at worst, a sideways moves.  And I maintain he would be an upgrade.

5)  Keeps the knife he licks after every use on top of the office jar of peanut butter.

I've chronicled NBM's inability to wash the spoon and bowl he uses for his breakfast every morning.  (Reminder:  He licks the spoon, rinses the bowl, and puts them in the cabinet where we keep food.)

The knife thing is new.  His lunch of late has consisted of an English muffin  (which he always burns, which means we get to work in an atmosphere of burnt English muffin all afternoon) topped with peanut butter.  And every day, once he's done using the knife, he licks it and sets it on top of the jar of peanut butter which we keep, again, other food.

I understand marking your territory, but could you maybe pee all over one of the cabinet shelves?  It would be more sanitary.

4)  Asked me what poking on Face Book meant...and then didn't like my answer.

I'm not saying NBM doesn't have enough to do in his day.  But earlier this week he was truly troubled about what, exactly, it meant when someone poked him on Face Book.  Face Book has been a favorite of his.  Every couple of weeks he'll ask me how to do something on Face Book.  I try to explain it to him, but giving him verbal directions is like telling a five year old how to put together a vacuum cleaner.  Most of these conversations end with me saying, "Well, NBM, I could show you, but company rules say I can be fired to going on Face Book during the work day."

So this week he discovered the "poke."  I explained to him that it was like someone waving at him or saying hello.  I told him he could poke back or ignore it.

He didn't like that.  So he walked down the Tunnel of Sound to PM (who has all the time in the world for topics like this) and they discussed it.  

Gee, glad no one actually needed his attention for work things.  Of course, this is the type of time you have in a work day when you never take a phone call and when you are always "out" if someone comes in to see you.  Unless, of course, it's a TV rep who is coming to take you to lunch.

3) Started golfing on his "lunch."

NBM is a salaried guy.  He pretty much comes in when he wants to and leaves when he wants to.  I can't fault him for showing up in the AM, he's always there early.  And I will give him this:  When he leaves before 4 PM, he's always got a legitimate reason to leave.  (The fact that he picked a car repair place a block from his house is just a coincidence...all of our company vans need service all the time, especially when we have very nice golfing weather.)

As a salaried guy, he doesn't so much have a "lunch" as he has time

Something we would love to ask him...but
he's out golfing/having lunch/checking/basketball scores.

when he eats at his desk.  And his pay doesn't vary regardless of when or for how long he takes lunch, unlike us hourly wagers.  This much just have occurred to him recently because this week his golf bag moved into the office.  And now,  after he's burned his English muffin and licked his knife, he heads out to some indoor golf place where he hits balls for 30-45 minutes.  I shouldn't complain because life is just better when he's not in the office (because when he's not disrupting my day with nonsense, he's asking me why I'm not accomplishing enough in my day.) but since the golf clubs live in the office, he now feels the need to discuss golf WAY more than before.  And that's saying something.  (I could be thankful, he talks about golf so much now, he's backed off a little bit of his political ranting...but only a little.)

2)  Completed the computer install...as far as he was concerned.

Computer issues have been a major sore spot in the office for the past couple months.  I wound up getting a new computer because, like most of the computers in the office, mine was woefully outdated and loaded with who knows how many viruses and gremlins.  Well, this week NBM pulled some money out of the owner's wallet  (replacing anything cuts into our bottom line, and NBM's whole deal is he shows a profit more than any other branch...of course, we all have to bring in our own pens and he locks up copier paper so I have to ask him for paper when the copier is empty and I have to tell him why I need it.) and got new computers for himself, NGTJ and PM.  Yesterday was the day of installation.  PM managed to get his installed all by himself because PM knows a thing or two about computers.  PM then showed NBM how to install his.  Four seconds after PM left NBM's office, I was summoned to show him how to transfer his files.  I told him how I would do it.  He said, "That's now how PM showed me."  I said, "well, then do it the way PM told you."  He said, "I don't remember what he said."

But the biggest SNAFU happened when he took what little he could remember and he tried to install NGTJ's computer.  I don't know what he did, but it wasn't what he was supposed to.  I know this because when she tried to use it, it not only didn't work, it scolded her and insulted her wardrobe.  She tried to ask NBM what he'd done.  He said, "Mine works just fine."  And then he went to the golf place leaving NGTJ unable to use her computer and therefore do her job.

And OF COURSE his worked just fine.  He rarely, if ever, USES his computer.  He's on his smart phone all day, checking golf and basketball scores, and political stuff.  For the record, his computer was not working because we looked at it while he was golfing. Whatever he'd done to NGTJ's, he'd done to his own.

His question to her, upon returning from golf, was, "Why aren't you at your desk working?"

1) Needed me to help him see his bracket.

I didn't say much when, a couple weeks ago, he had me fill out an Oscar's score sheet so he could enter a contest sponsored by a local TV station.

Tuesday of this week he called me into his office.  He had just filled out his March Madness bracket so he could win a contest sponsored by another local TV station and he was unable to print the bracket from his computer.  (This was one of the reasons we got new computers.  Mine was the only one in the office that played nicely with the printer.)

I gave him several tips, but, like a parent dealing with a whiny child, I finally said, "Email it to me, I'll print it."

He emailed me, not a file to print, but a LINK to a WEBSITE (one of those I would be fired for being on during working hours). I opened the link and realized I would need his account password.  I asked him for it and he gave me three passwords, none of which worked.  

Not the worst thing I was asked to do this week.

He then stomped around the office, swinging his putter, asking the air what his password was.

Meanwhile, I did the whole "forgotten password" thing and told him to check his email, that he now had a temporary password.  But that was not good enough for him.  Nope, he then decided he would reset his password and give it to me.

Except in the time it took him to speak the actual password to me, he forgot how he spelled it.

Lather, rinse, repeat.

At least Michael Scott never complained
that their outgoing call totals were too low.

This took about 45 minutes of my day.  And he asked me at the end of the day why my outgoing call total was so low.

So, yeah, I'm pretty sure Michael Scott, a guy who burned his foot on a George Foreman grill, would be an upgrade.

JUST IN TIME FOR CHRISTMAS! Unsafe At Any Speed is FINALLY here!

JUST IN TIME FOR CHRISTMAS! Unsafe at Any Speed is finally here!

Good morning all! 

Well, after many fits and starts, and one major melding project, "Elsie W.;  Unsafe at Any Speed" is FINALLY available for purchase!

TA DAH!

 

Now, I know you all want to get in on this so here are the links:

FOR THE KINDLE CLICK HERE!

FOR A PRINT BOOK CLICK HERE!

FOR EVERY OTHER ELECTRONIC DEVICE CLICK HERE!

I'm really proud of this one, and I'm pretty sure this is a good one for you to give to that friend of yours who is stuck working with a horrible co-worker!  If you liked "The Office" and "Office Space"  you are going to LOVE Elsie W.!

ENJOY!

Lumbergh vs. the basic laws of biology.

Good morning!

As many of you know, one of my very favorite movies is "Office Space."  I used to think it was very funny.  This week I realized I'm living the movie plot.

Fact:  I loathe the office copier/fax machine.

Fact:  I have a commute that sometimes takes a lifetime.

Fact:  My boss has few social skills and no concept of personal life outside the office...other than his own.

Fact:  Half the office escapes the office because take it, and then return talking about how awesome such and such an eaterie was.

Fact: I am very protective of my stapler.

So, without changing jobs, I went from the whimsical mad cap world of Dunder Mifflin to the soul breaking, mind numbing world of Initech.  And yes, if I really bust my A## and Initech ships a few extra units, I don't see an extra dime.

My review's coming up next week.  My one year review.  Lumbergh...that's my new name for NBM...had me fill out my own review on my own time.  I suggested he do it since it was an evaluation of my performance based on his expectations.  He declined.  I started calling him Lumberg.


yeah, I'm going to have to have you come
in on Saturday and take
care of the fruit flies.

BUT, that is not why I'm blogging this morning.  No I'm blogging because once again I seem to be working for someone with half my brain power, half my practical skills, and half my ability to function on the planet. 

Case in point:  Our chronic fruit fly problem.  Ladies and gentleman, I may have been too harsh on Elsie W for this last year.  Granted, the woman drank soda from 2 liter bottles and then left the bottles uncapped, on her desk, with a little bit of soda in the bottom. And granted, she did bring a bowl of chocolate chips from home, and when she opened the bowl a swarm of fruit flies flew out.

HOWEVER...she is gone.  The fruit flies are not.

We noticed this in August, and Lumbergh (NBM) tried to figure out where they were coming from.  I suggested, since the man is NEVER NOT EATING, that they might be coming from his bucket of banana peals he keeps under his desk.  Seriously, not one man in that office is capable of emptying his own garbage can.  Me, I eat little at the office and never put the remains in the can under my desk.  Hence, no fruit flies originate from my spot.

And Noelle C, for all her whackiness, does manage to take out the trash on Saturdays when she's there.  So the kitchen trash gets emptied every week.

Lumbergh's trash, however, sits until the can is full.  And he eats fruit and crackers and yogurt and fruit all day long.  And he puts the remains in his office trash and it sits there, in his 90 degree office, until it's full.

And he wonders why he has flies.

Check that, he's completely befuddled as to what the flies are, where they come from, and what he needs to do to get rid of them.

Because I still don't know what to do
about the fruit flies...or how to
wash a spoon.

He's one of those guys who just has to be the boss because he has no actual skills.

Anyway, I digress.  (Can we tell I'm not over the whole having to fill out my own evaluation yet?) 

So I suggested he empty his personal trash more than once a quarter.  Now he does it every three days.  And still, we have flies. Many, many fruit flies.

He expressed amazement to me the other day when a swarm seemed to be hovering over the sink.  "Why are there flies here?"

Yes I'll be happy to explain every aspect of the database to you...
even though I never got trained on it and I've been here less time that
any of you people, I'll be happy to explain how the basic operating system of
the company works.

I walked over and pushed my way through a cloud of fruit flies...yep...just what I thought.

See, Lumbergh does two things every single day.  In the morning he eats a bowl of cereal.  In the afternoon he has a bowl of something else, usually yogurt.  He uses one spoon, it's the only spoon in the office kitchen.  He licks it clean and puts it in the drawer.  The bowls he fills with water and sets in the sink...maybe thinking fairies will come and wash them properly.  And usually a fairy by the name of Noelle C does...because she loves him...but that's for another blog.

However, Noelle C was out sick the other day...and his bowls did not get washed.  So there they were, swampy with fetid water, fruit flies teeming over the bits of food still stuck to the bowls.

And he was absolutely, and without any doubt, clueless about where those darn critters were coming from.

Did I tell him?  Did I wash the bowls?

Nope, and ARE YOU KIDDING?

See, I'm the lowest paid employee in the building and it's become increasingly clear that I'm the only one who truly understands how the company's database works. Lumbergh, Noelle C...they all make WAY more money than I do...and I have to explain crap to them every single day.  Crap they should know because it's their...you know...JOB.  And I don't see that changing any time soon.  So no, I did not explain to my boss how fruit flies work.  I told him how to clean up things to keep them away, he didn't do it.  It would take away from his face book time on his cell phone.  (We aren't allowed on Face book at work...but he can access it by phone...so there's that.)   I don't feel the need to repeat myself and I certainly don't feel need to
clean up after him.  I've got a family at home I don't clean up after.

Think of it this way:  If they start paying me what they're paying Whackadoodledoo Noelle C...I might think about showing Lumbergh how to wash a dish.