But I don't WANNA!

I was cruisin' the want ads today, looking for a job that I'd be interested in applying for. I found one, so I went to call up my resume to send in.

I'VE DELETED MY RESUME.

*tear*

I don't wanna do up the whole thing over again! I can't find it anywhere, not in the program I wrote it in, not in any of my document histories, NADA. It's gone.

Put on the coffee, it's gonna be a long night.

I suppose it's a silver lining that my job history is brief and recent...

Moving right along...

I applied for a job as an Advertising Copywriter. I'm massively underqualifed. Actually, I AM qualified, I just don't have the requisite previous experiance. Bah. I applied anyway. The worst they can say is no.

And laugh at me. :(

But damn, I'd be good at that job.

Laid off. :(

I got laid off on Friday. I knew it was coming, but it still smarts. :(

Anyone who's been to this blog before knows I WILL NOT be missing that damn company though!

Wanna know the shittiest part? I was four weeks shy of qualifying for unemployment. FOUR FRIGGIN' WEEKS. So now I have no job, no paycheck, no plan B. Sucks to be me.

Luckily, I have in my posession someone who is the BOMB-FREAKIN-DIGGITY of a hubby. :) He took me out Friday night and got me drunk. Very, very drunk. I felt a little better. Then he bought me presents. Felt another little bit better. I still feel like shit, but at least I'm out of bed. What more do you people want???

Cons:

• No job.
• No money.
• Embarassed.
• I hate packing.
• Embarassed a little bit more.
• Not enough hours to qualify for EI.
• My plants will probably die.
• No more free office supplies.
• My suits will go to waste.
• Eventually I'll run out of food.
• My rent is due on the 1st.
• Stay-at-home moms don't get coffee breaks.

Pros:

• I NEVER HAVE TO GO BACK THERE AGAIN.
• "Laid Off" doesn't carry the same stigma as "Fired".
• I am now free to move to the Island.
• I can go on job interviews whenever they'll have me.
• I NEVER HAVE TO GO BACK THERE AGAIN.
• I can go on vacation as planned, without taking time off work (lol).
• I can work for a company who respects me, and pays me what I'm worth.
• I NEVER HAVE TO GO BACK THERE AGAIN.
• I can sun myself during the day, and send out resumes at night. Got bless the internet.
• Less gas.
• Less flourescent lighting.
• I can wear flip-flops all day.
• I won't be so tired at the end of the day.
• I can concentrate on my family.
• My house will be clean. Well, maybe.

This blows.

EDITING - Very, VERY important

So there I was, happily tippity tappety-ing away on my keyboard at work, writing another essay instructing some poor sap on the proper procedure for filling out Stupid Form No. 84116875138. I finished up, blasted through spellcheck, and had my mouse poised above "print".

That's when it started.

The voice.

It said NO. Don't print. Something is wrong.

Very, very wrong.

I reread it. Clear, concise, and correct.

Wait.

No.

It's not right.

I must have stared at that procedure for ten straight minutes. Do you know that if you stare at a word document for long enough, it turns into one of those magic eye pictures and you see all sorts of cool things? True story.

I digress.

I stared at it. I scrolled up. I scrolled down. I viewed in different modes. I spellchecked, grammar-checked, and edited for format.

I went for coffee.

When I sat back down, there it was, clear as 12pt, black, Times New Roman on a lily-white page.
Here's what I actually wrote, with intent to distribute:
"... is a part of the lead HAND JOB." "...the lead HAND JOB requires that..." "For the lead HAND JOB to be efficent..."

Yeah, I did that.

Of course, it SHOULD (and now does) read "JOB of the LEAD HAND".

Gotta love a dirty double entendre in official procedural documentation.

I'm not as think as I smart I am.

DING DING DING! Total time: less than two months

Less than two months. That's how long it took the powers that be to begin to re-assign me to writing training and procedural manuals once again. Why doesn't anybody listen to me? This is my NICHE. You can't stop fate.

In other news, I've been applying for government jobs. I dropped the "my husband is in the MILITARY and I just want to reunite our family" bomb in my resume/application documents. Lol. Doesn't get much more "government" than THAT! I'm applying for essentially the same job I've got now, but for double the gross income and (hopefully) a significantly better employer.

The thing that keeps me whistling while I work is the vision of one day telling my current floundering company run by asshats that I. AM. OUTTA HERE!!!

Keep your fingers and toes crossed. If I get an income-tastic job like these, I promise to buy you all pretty things. Or at least buy myself pretty things in your honour. ;)

Fun at work

My Boss's Boss: Mrs. (Kira's Supervisor) who is our contact for job XYZ in Calgary?

My Boss: Uhhhh...

Me: His name is Claude XXX, I've placed his contact information on your desk and taken the liberty of entering it into your computer address book. I've also sent a copy to our shipping department, our service department, and central filing. I've kept a copy for our files, and updated our submittal coverpages.

My Boss's Boss: Holy shit.

My Boss: *Open mouthed stupor*

Me: You're welcome!

Lesson number one: I'm too good to be a bloody File Clerk.

Lesson number two: Being BEYOND good at your job can be fun when it leaves people stupified.

Lesson number three: I have too much time on my hands at work.

Dear perfectly nice woman at work:

If I hear you refer to our company as "Architekshewal", hear you talk any more about your "tubular [ligation]", or if you answer my question "when are you having the food ordered for" by saying "oh, lunch, probably" (with ZERO sarcasm - you were dead serious) one more time, I'm going to slap you. Or myself. Or both of us.

Hard.

Other than that, I like you. :)

And this week's Stupidity Award goes to...

The International Shipping department of my company!!! (For those of you "in the loop", this department is headed up by none other than Finn's bio dad. Wait, forget I said that, because then I'll end up looking stupid by ASSociation.)

We are in Canada. We regularly ship outside of Canada. Apparently, some moron with no more sense than the product he's shipping (cough, cough) decided it would be a good idea to ship product secured to and into crates affixed with Robertson Head screws. Robertson Head screws are not a standard screw outside of Canada, thus, utensils meant for manipulating said screws (IE screwdrivers) are not readily available. As in, they do not exist. So, we've got our product, which is primarily made of GLASS, safely and firmly secured in a way that cannot be undone. Additionally, you can't simply destroy the crating without destroying your shipment along with it.

I don't even want to mention this next part... But I have to. Just remember how much you all like me and that I've mentioned how I'm trying to get away from this company, ok? Please??

The company's solution to this problem... Was to simply send along the required screwdrivers to undo the non-standard screws.

Let's run some math, shall we?

Additional costs to ship screwdrivers: Call it 5 screwdrivers per delivery for recievers/install crew x $5ea for cheap-ass screwdrivers bought in bulk... x the 50 or so jobs we currently have on the go out of country... x the 2-200 deliveries per job, because these people are idiots who can't keep track of an 11'x11' blue aluminum window rack, let alone a screwdriver... I don't want to do that math anymore.

Cost of switching to worldwide-standard FLAT HEAD SCREWS? Oh, that's right! They're cheaper!!! We'd be SAVING money!!!

Explain to me again WHY I got busted down to File Clerk?

Update of sorts:

My supervisor is getting laid off, and job being "absorbed" by other departments. Being that I am her assistant, I don't yet know what this means for me.



I have, however, mastered the art of looking busy.

On to plan "B"

I didn't get the job.

I'm surprisingly upbeat about it.

This is a good thing.

My company blows.

I'm too good for them!

I'll put in enough time to qualify for the yummy gov't cheese though.

I'm sorry, God is out of the office. You want Jesus?

The company I work for is not exactly, erm, overflowing with people who speak-a da englishes.

This is a souce of immense fun for those of us who DO speak-a dem englishes.

We have a man in our ranks whose name is Gord. Gord is a destinctly North-American name, no? However, for certain types who are markedly less "north american", that "r" is such a slippery little bastard. The following are actual excerpts from files I pulled today:

"Attention GOD, your delivery is LATE!!!" (Oh wait, I think I wrote that one towards the end of my first pregancy...)

"Mr. God, please be advised that if these deficiencies are not corrected, we will be forced to take legal action..." Um. Good luck with that.

"...God's vacation request has been denied..." Yeah, for the last TWELVE BILLION YEARS.

"God will be working for Mr. Xxx..." When you say "for", you mean "as lord and master of" right?

*In an email* "God, where the HELL were you yesterday???" I'm sure he gets this a lot.

And my personal favorite, the inter-office Memo:

"Effective immediatly, God (LastName) is no longer employed at Comany XYZ." Oh well, back to "Plan B"...

It's OK, I give good phone...

Gist of the e-mail Mr. General Manager sent Mr. Island General Manager:

"I have someone looking to move to the island with these qualifications, do you have anything available?"

Gist of the e-mail Mr. IGM replied to Mr. GM:

"We just filled that position, but she's not working out. Luckily, her probation period end coincides with Kira's availability. Call to set up interview.

He's going to call and do an interview over the phone!

So, Mr. GM wasn't just blowing smoke up my ass! Good for ME!

Work: Day 3

I was only marginally late today. 10-15 minutes, depending on your clock. However, I worked two hours overtime to make up for yesterday and today. Seems fair to me.

Mrs. Supervisor and I get on fabulously! She hates Miss. NastyPants Biotch as much as I do! And she invented more work for me to do that's NOT FILING!!! Ok, so it's photocopying, but still - IT'S NOT FILING!

But the BEST part of everything is, Mr. General Manager came sniffing around. Mrs. Supervisor put in a GREAT word for me! This means Mr. GM wasn't just blowing smoke up my ass, but this is an ACTUAL opportunity! Ohhh I'm such a bundle of nerves.

Keep your appendages crossed for me (Lol, Teri - you crack me all up) because I can't prove that that's not what's working for me...

Oh noes... :(

I was an hour and a half late to work today. I'm SUCH a freaking IDIOT.

Cliche as it may be, it's all because my alarm didn't go off. I can't believe that's actually my justification, it sounds lame even to me. *Hangs head in shame.*

Way to make a good impression on the day Mr. General Manager was supposed to put in a good word for me.

*Tears*

(No word on that yet.)

I'm working overtime tomorrow to make up my missed time.

Boy am I the Jerk Of The World.

Minor update:

I did up a current resume. I sent it to my general manager to be forwarded on to that other general manager. I feel like I'm gonna hurl... Being high-strung AND anxious is a GREAT diet plan.

Are you there God? It's me, on my first day back...

As all you, my faithful readers, know - today was my first day back at work. My heart broke a little bit to leave my baby (I was glad for a break from the other two...) at daycare, but he went off and had a fantastic day without me (bugger). I got to work, and after about an hour of hearing the same refrain, "there's no work, we don't know what to do with you, business is sloooowww..." etc. on and on and on until my ears were bleeding - I had had enough. Off to see the General Manager I went. I was the first to drop the "L" Bomb: Layoff. I basically said that please please pretty please let me get my hours in that I need to claim EI again, and then we can both go on our merry ways. FWIW, I've got at LEAST two months guaranteed filing (gag). I need 5 months to claim EI. Mr. GM looked relieved. Apparently this was his master plan all along. I explained that that would be just ducky by me, because I was planning on moving to the island anyway to be with dear hubby, so I wouldn't lose any sleep over a layoff right at Christmas time (luck of the timings, lol) and he could stop stressing about being the one to "ruin" Christmas for my little family. So at this point I was feeling pretty good. Then we got to talking. See, I had mentioned "The Island". The gears in his head started slowly clunking to life. You see, friends, that it just so happens that my company has an office on The Island. Furthermore, it just so happens that that office "might" have an opening, and it just so happens that that opening is in a position for which I am FULLY qualified AND trained for - within the same company! Mr. General Manager asked me when I could (hypothetically) start there, and we discussed a bit and arrived at July 15th of this year. Sooooo, he's going to talk to the GM of THAT office, and if all the planets are aligned just so, and he's not pulling my leg, and Mr. Island GM likes the sound of my name... Then I could just get transferred there, NOT have to file, WRITE OFF all my moving expenses, BE with hubby, HAVE a job... Basically my life as I know it would just "click". This has never before happened to me. I'm sooooo nervous. Please, pleasepleasepleasepleasepleeeaaasssseeee keep your fingers and toes and eyes and nosehairs crossed for me. I've submitted all necessary paperwork, but I have to hand over a resume. As I don't currently have one of those (being employed, and all) I'll probably be up until the wee hours of the morning getting one perfected. Oh my world I want this so much! I'm pinning all my hopes on it, putting all my eggs in one basket, counting my chickens, betting the farm, using ALL the really bad metaphors I know... This could just be the break I need.

Sorry for the completely scatterbrained post, everyone. I'll add something more coherent as soon as it comes to me.

I'd just like to remind you all...

.... that today is officially Two Weeks Until I Return To Work. Which one of you wants to take me out to lunch my first day back?

I'm actually really excited.

About the lunch, that is.

What do I win?

I was right. FWIW, I'm always right. ;) I got busted down to File Clerk. Technically, I'm the assistant to the executive assitant to the VP of Construction. WEverTF that means. In the General Managers words, "the whole company is slowing down. The US projects are dead, there's massive layoffs in the states, and we'll be scratching to find work for you. Filing will not be a permanent full time job, but that's what you're doing for now".

Loosly translated, I think that means my ass is on the line. Fuckers.

PROS:

• My new supervisor loves me, and I genuinely like her.
• She knows EVERYTHING. Working for her will be the best education into the window business I could get, ever, anywhere.
• My new job will not be stressful, and will leave me plenty of time for office gossip and tea breaks.
• My new supervisor will not care how much I fuck around, because she spends half her day outside on a smoke break.
• I can wear all the pencil skirts and icepick heels I want.
• In the past, my new supervisor has bought me lunch, so long as I bring something back for her. She has a weakness for pickles from a certain deli nearby; information I continually use to my advantage.
• Because of above, I know her banking PIN.
• She knows ALLLLLLLLL LL L LLL the dirty little company secrets!
• There is nowhere to go but up.
• I don't gotta work with the Sperm Donor. Though technically I'm the assistant to the executive assistant to the SD's boss. I'll have to find some way to use that to my advantage...

CONS:

• My new job is mindless busywork.
• I'm not doing what interests me.
• I'm not doing what I'm good at. Mainly because I really don't give a shit about filing.
• I don't get my own office. (Not that I had one before, but I'm still pouting.)
• My new supervisor smells like a damp ashtray. ALL. THE. TIME.
• My new supervisor thinks/talks/loves her dogs as if they were children. she almost cried when I told her I hate the whole barking, panting, licking, shedding, poop-eating species.
• I can smell a layoff coming.

I just hope they let me sneak in all my necessary hours before they lay me off so I can claim EI again. Pending that, I shall let them all live.

All in all, it's a positive deal, and I am excited to get back there. I miss talking to grownups. I miss taking a half hour at lunch for ME. I miss dressing up!

T-minus 19 days...

Lets see where my brain goes...

I have complete writers block. I'm sitting here, staring at my blog, waiting for some pearl of wisdomosity to form that I can bestow on you, my dear readers. And I've got...

Nada.

So, I decided to just start typing, and see where my brain takes me. And, GO.

(Insert theme song from "Jeopardy")

*Waiting*

*Still waiting*

Hmmm, ok. Let's start with work. I'm due to return to work in T-minus three weeks. This was a positive thing up until a week ago, when my former supervisor informed me that he has no positions available within his department. See, this is the beauty of Canadian Maternity Leave. Your employer has to hold a position for you, but it does not necessarily have to be the one you vacated when you left. Ergo, whilst when I left I wrote training and procedural manuals, when I return I could be a file clerk. Or a mail distributer. Or a human resource manager. Or a personal assistant. Or a fabricator. Or an installer. The possibilities are endless, really. My money is on the file clerk, though. I'm CHOKED.

I wrote a very kindly worded email (with gritted teeth) to the general manager reiterating about a thousand times my STRENGTHS and PREFERENCES, even though I know that they won't make one iota of difference. It has come to my attention that companies are run solely by power-hungry egomaniacs, and the peon that dares work in anything short of management should be beaten down and condescended to at every turn. However, my intent was not to give them a piece of my mind, but to get everything down in black-and-white. My company, in particular, has a nasty little habit of saying "that never happened/was said/was sent to me/blah blah blah" and well, I'm wilier than that. Here's a bit of crucial advice to anyone surfing the interwebz who has pull in a company of ANY kind. Never try to fuck with someone who is smarter than you are. They'll realize when you're trying to blow smoke up their ass, and more than likely you'll end up eating it plus interest in the form of bad publicity/legal action. Now, I'm not smarter than all the higher-ups in my company, (I speak better english TO BE SURE) but I discovered a long time ago that it is far harder to argue with written evidence than it is to argue he-said/she-said. Ergo, a completely documented and colour-coded copy of all correspondence betwixt myself and my employers has been maintained, by me, and sent, by me, to any and all people I can think of would possibly need/want/get a kick out of one. Because I'm an ass like that. My boss, his boss, the president and CEO, the human resource guy, the general manager, and a few other buddies I have there just for fun. Argue with THAT, suckas. I can't take all credit for this though, it was all Dear Hubby's idea. Because he's an even bigger ass like that. ;)

So, Monday June 2nd at 7am, I shall either be unemployed (and seeking legal action) or doing something for a company that wouldn't know it's ass from it's elbow if handed a map. I've oh-so-politely requested that somebody, anybody, contact me to tell me which position they've "found" for me before I show back up on my first day. Because being assigned field duty would really be a bitch in my standard uniform of tight pencil skirt and icepick heels. Plus, as any fellow curly-haired gal can attest, hard-hat-hair is sooooo not sexy.

Sigh.

Please tell me your company is full of secret hidden evil agendas and run by a handful of power-tripping assholes who would sooner sell you down the river for their mistakes than aknowledge your own validity.

Or don't, because if the whole world is this pathetic I might just check out now.

Sorry for being the Bitter Betty, y'all. I'll think of something so utterly blogtastic you'll all forgive me tomorrow. That, or I'll just slip you all Xanax. That's good too.