Everything is in slow motion it seems. Except the weather which is definitely making it's wintery voice heard. And felt. Darned chilly today, I even wore a hat. I hate hats. they flatten out my curls and give me awful hat-hair.
Am I doing NaNoWriMo? Maybe. I could be, it would explain my kind of quiet over the past few days. I could also be wallowing in gelatinous pile of wobbly misery over the fact I have a bit too much...wobble. BUT, nah, writing a short story in 30 days sounds like much more fun that pouting over cake aversion.
Mother, Daughter and the foreign pen-pal. That's what the story is about. The mother is a hyperactive anxiety ridden control freak, the daughter is a laid back teenage genius the pen-pal is a red herring...or is she?! and maybe her hot uncle who happens to live in the same city will come around for a visit too...I just don't know yet. That's kind of the whole point, right?? But if I get told one more damned time "Do you have to pound the shit out of the keyboard all the time?" I'll just go crazy.
Oh, you know, I've not checked my google-mail for ages! That's rather bad of me... Whew! No major misses, just a reply to Doug, and a cutie sweet set of pictures from Maja.
So in other news, my job is annoying me, my manager is seriously annoying me, and because I don't actually need the job I've been having a great time winding her up. If she wasn't such a scatterbrain, disorganized wreck of a manager (although, at the heart a very nice person) it would be a different story. But she is all of those things. A pillowcase who tries to be a iron block. A creampuff who tries to be a 16oz sirloin. A twinkleshine fairy trying to be a despot. But lately she's being snappish, bossy (In a not very nice way I don't care is she's the boss) and counter productive.
Last week she was talking to the Italian Stallion who was hired a week ahead of me. (A point I comment on often as we were in a group interview together and he was hired ahead of me, and has been a frigging nightmare ever since. I am an Angel, of course.) They were discussing his shares options as he'd qualified for them because of his length of time with the company. She then came over to me and began talking to me about the benefits but then stopped, "Oh but you won't qualify as you've not been here long enough. Sorry." she said with a sweet smile. I looked at her and then said,
"Simone's been here a week longer than I have, and he qualifies?"
"Why is that?"
"It's how the dates worked out."
"And you've been here telling me about all these benefits I'll not be able to take advantage of because...?"
"I...uhm...thought you should be informed of our benefits."
"Oh. Right. Not rubbing my nose in the fact that you hired him a week ahead of me and I'm out of luck as a result of poor timing, then."
"It's just unfortunate."
"On so many levels." I said and went back to work.
Now I wasn't too bothered about this as I already knew the whole spiel from mailings sent to me from the company's finance office. Her ignorance of my position, her delivery of the information and airy-fairy goofiness annoyed me. There's been more, mostly around her inability to ever have the correct information. And she's a goof. And not in a good goofy way. I'm a good goofy, she's a menace.
Last week I noticed we still had a ton of the exact same product and it was taking a lot of storage space. The product wasn't on promotion and there wasn't any reason for us to have cases and cases of it. I mentioned this to her and got a haughty reply, "Why didn't you tell us about this weeks ago when we asked all the departments to inform us of excess stock so we could clear it from the warehouse?" I told her it was the first I'd heard of any reporting excess stocks, but I'm doing so now. She rolled her eyes, sighed and stomped off saying she'd put it in her report, making it very apparent that I was not in her favour. I later found out this request was only made to night staff (as in the 10pm-6am shift) and not my midnight shift. Then I mentioned it to my co-worker, Avril, who does night shifts and she went red in the face mad because she DID report those items and our manager forgot! So I get the shit, again, for something she's not really thought about.
OH, yeah. She calls me Fiona, too.
At the moment I'm making a mental catalog of the incidents, so when and if I get pulled up I can rail them off. the fact that in the 12 months I've worked there and never once had a performance review, should also work in my favour as I'm supposed to have had them quarterly.
Write more, Lyvvie. Just write more.