Friday, January 06, 2006

The shit missed the fan

Copied from my LJ-5/20/05
Friday night and I have the place to myself once again. I am unwinding after my lunch break with a bellyful of fish and chips, listening to music and watching Salad Fingers cartoons online. Moments like this make me almost glad to be working here. I goof off probably more than I should. But then I still get more done on this job than anyone else, so no need to feel all that guilty.

Lamont spent a while trying to whip the department into shape, or more accurately, to give it the appearance of being whipped into shape. He brought in a long table, lined a row of wire baskets across it and printed up elaborate signs for each. Random piles of jobs everywhere were rounded up and placed into their designated spots. This was meant to be evidence of the "sweeping changes" he claimed to be implementing in an email he sent out to several managers. He was so proud of his bullshit artistry he even read it aloud to me before sending it. Hilarious.

Then after what seemed like months of suspense, Buzz called Lamont into his office yesterday and told him the rumors of his impending firing were unfounded. Now Lamont says he's content with staying here for the time being, and my job is no apparent jeopardy. Crisis averted, the momentary lapse into organization quickly passed, and it's back to looking like the aftermath of a library explosion in here. Papers cover every desk, table and counter at a depth of four inches to two feet. There isn't even a spot to set down my beverage without shuffling some stacks around. I can't tell what jobs are in progress, done, or past due. But you know what? I don't give a shit anymore. I finally learned to let it go. I just come in, grab something from the nearest pile and go to work. There's no need to stress out over it. If we are miles behind because nobody can find anything, I won't be the one getting screamed at or threatened. I have no responsibility for it whatsoever. In fact Lamont pays so little attention to what I'm doing, I could fake working for a week before he caught on.

Tomorrow Lamont is having Tracy train me how to print the daily reports that Lo usually runs. Since she isn't here to run them in the evening on a reliable basis, Tracy often has to come in at 5am to run them before the deadline. Once I'm running these, says Tracy, it's bye-bye SchizLo. Not a second too soon for me. She tries to suck up to me one night and is surly and snappish the next. I'm over her crazy ass.

It's been nine days since I took that aptitude test for a software company, and still no word. They gave all of us a letter essentially instructing us, "Don't call us, we'll call you." I still feel like my brain wasn't firing on all cylinders that day, so maybe I didn't pass muster. But I applied for several more tech support jobs this week. I'll find something eventually that pays a decent wage. Until then I'll keep plugging away here, where I can work all the overtime I can stand.

Paul leaves tomorrow on vacation. He'll spend some days hiking on North Manitou Island, which is several miles off Michigan's west coast and accessible only by ferry. It's even more rugged than South Manitou where we camped last year, which at least had campsites and treated water. He'll be surviving on his wits and whatever food and gear he can pack in, putting more faith in his trusty water filter than I ever would. He got a GI bug from river water on one of his hikes last year, but he blamed himself for using the filter improperly. Let's hope he was right.

After his hike he'll stop for an as yet undetermined length of time and visit his parents, who have a summer home in western Michigan. He has the sort of cordial but distant relationship with his parents that is alien to me, having grown up in a very tight-knit clan. His mother just had or is about to have surgery of some sort. He is fuzzy on the details. By contrast I have been on the phone nearly every day with Mom since she found out she has pneumonia. She's doing much better, by the way.

Music: Cyndi Lauper-Hat full of Stars
Mood: Content