16 September 2007

Just when one thinks one knows everything...

Friday afternoon I had need to put in an hour or three of overtime-something Blondie waves like a cudgel whenever she is chuffed with me, as in: "You've been working too many extra hours (usually on the stuff she didn't know how to do and quietly has shoved over to me) and I may not be able to approve the hours this pay period..." and Blondie had already decamped at the end of her eight hours, so I approached our mutual boss to ensure I knew what he wanted-the work done or me out of his sight.

In the process, he realised he'd not 'read from the bottom' and ended up profusely apologizing to me and dressing down (gently, the young man really is quite a good leader) the vault manager (and I suspect our little Blondie is in for more of the same on the morrow), which of course reduced me to tears.

How awful for him and me, that I was so overcome with several emotions that I was unable to control the breaking voice, threatening-to-overflow-tear-filled eyes; I begged to leave the room and it took me nearly a full half hour to control myself.

All weekend I've been trying not to be cynical, and think more positively-perhaps finally I'll be able to be about doing my job instead of watching my back.

I love my job. I'd like to work with people I don't have to be 24/7 wary of-bad for production, that lack of trustability:) I believe in what I do, actually.

And I've been looking for a new job that I can love, while able to trust my co-workers, too. It's been rather rough at my office for all of the days I've been there, and the past few months I've been questioning my sanity or least mental stability and self-esteem. Driving to work wondering what the hell is wrong with me that I keep going there is no way to begin a productive work day, now is it?

I'm no different from anyone else on the planet.

But it took real integrity for Young Mr. Boss to apologize, and it took more of the same for the vault manager to send an immediate email apology to me and those others who'd been on the receiving end of his somewhat blistering Thursday email outlining how we'd erred in exchanging information. Friday he made it clear that he felt quite badly about it all, and that he knew he'd been wrong both in the original email and his understanding of who I was and was not permitted to speak to.

But I reserve my deepest respect for my former supervisor, and one of my co-workers. The former supervisor came to my desk with raised voice to ask me to please run an important report for him hours before the truth had come out; he made sure Blondie and Young Mr. Boss knew he was counting on me and trusted me. My co-worker went quietly around the building investigating to discover the truth, and while she was doing so she made it clear she was reserving judgement. Before the truth came out.

Still, the problem of Blondie and her comrade in co-worker crime have yet to be addressed.

Now, Young Mr. Boss is not at all stupid. He has not missed the problems nor the source of said problems. My worry is how he is going to address the problem.

Blondie is 63+ years old, she's is trouble, she's desperate, and she is going to have a very hard time finding a job if she loses this one. I've already had to plead her case to two people in a position to send her packing by insisting she has a lot to offer-which she does, actually.

Too bad the last thing she did Friday before sliding out the back door when no-one was looking was to delete my portion of a 'request for direction' email (although not my name or the fact that it was a forward from me that caused her to contact the vendor) contact a vendor who'd overcharged us, making herself an obvious credit grabber when she forwarded the entire mess back to those I'd copied in the original email requesting direction. The deletion of my request for direction after I'd noticed an excess charge was so very clumsy! Even if she had no intention, the way she deleted made her look as though she was trying to appear in-charge and on top while cutting out an underling-bad form that.

So now our boss and our Accounting demon know that she got a good portion of the money back-and deleted my part of the chain in the process. What a 'hero' she is.

My conscience forces me to confess that I sincerely hope the back draft she started to make herself appear the hero does what most intentionally lit back drafts do-roar back in her face and scorch her beyond recognition.

However,she has just been diagnosed with Type 2 diabetes and is utterly unable to control it-she's not at all bright (being feral is not the same as being bright) so she is incapable of learning and implementing said learning in order to save her life. She is mentally vague-disturbingly so; she gives into the cravings for all the wrong foods that typify the uncontrolled diabetic and the resulting mood swings and poor decision making are destroying her while simultaneously exposing her past mistakes as her increasingly desperate and clumsy attempts to cover fail, badly.

Before the diabetes took control of her entire self, she was a basically sweet little airhead whose pretensions to the 'elite' circle of as she would crudely phrase it-the big dogs-were controlled by her basic sweetness.

Now she is an out-of-control monster-airhead in an even greater position to tear rather huge chunks out of this company.

Being completely Celt and therefore one hell of a business-person, this outrages me.

Being completely Celt and therefore nearly completely sentimental, I am hoping a place can be found for her wherein she is incapable of inflicting any more damage without losing her much needed salary. Peter Principled, if you will-promoted at the limit of her incompetence to a position wherein she is rendered harmless...

Being completely Celt and therefore capable of utter ruthlessness when the Law of Hospitality has been so thoroughly violated by someone I come perilously close to considering little better than a mangy cur or ally cat, I hope she is rooted out Monday morning so that we can get some damn work done.

Back, forth, I feel sorry for her in the same moment I am trying to figure out her next sinister move...

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