Balls, Balls, Balls.
Wednesday, Aug. 29, 2007 9:15 PM
"This dewlike life [will] fade away; avoid involvement in superflous things." - Zen Master Dogen
The morning came and I didn't want to crawl out of bed. Instead of jumping up and climbing dutifully into the shower, I found myself burrowing further beneath the covers.
It wasn't that I didn't want to face the world today. There was nothing filling me with trepidation. I wasn't full of anxiety like I am when I know I have to go in for another doctor's appointment, or I have to start something new and unfamiliar the next day. No. I just wanted to rid my body of this tired feeling.
I think it's my allergies. My eyes just want to stay closed. On top of that, I can't stop sneezing. I was sneezing so hard earlier today that I was afraid I'd pop a stitch open. I was even more afraid of doing so when my sneezing escalated into a coughing fit. Maybe it's not my allergies, after all. Maybe it's a cold.
Last week before my surgery, I found myself in a little word war with F.A.G. and F.A.B., both. This is how it went down:
Last month F.A.B. came to me with one of her "little projects" to do. She likes to pawn her "little projects" off on people she considers interns. I'm not an intern, but I don't mind these "little projects." It fills up some time when I have nothing else to do, and they don't last long. What you do is build spread sheets of people's accounts in order to show what they were billed and when and if they paid the amount due. This is something she should be doing, but she is pretty lazy.
The day she gave me two "little projects" was the day that our billing went out. My main priority is to help make sure the billing goes out in a timely fashion so I set the folders to the side to work on later that day or the next day. I didn't have much time later that day to work on them but I was able to start one of them. Anyway, when I came in the next day, the folders for the two working interest partners were not on my desk where I had left them. I went in search for them. I even stopped in F.A.G.'s office and asked him if he knew where they were. He acted all weird and shook his head no.
He always acts like you catch him doing something he shouldn't be doing. Sometimes I wonder if he's looking at porn or masturbating at his desk. The idea of even turning him into some sexual being is repulsive, but that's how he always acts when I ask him a question... as if I've caught him doing something repulsive.
I was going to ask F.A.B. about the whole thing but she was out of the office that day. I ended up finding the folders on Nick's desk, an intern. The folders were open and laying in front of a computer screen that looked exactly like a spread sheet was being made.
I assumed this: F.A.B. had seen that I didn't automatically jump the gun and start working on her crap for her so she reassigned the "little project" to Nick. She's done this before. If you don't act excited to do work for her, she'll mysteriously take it away without an explanation or a clue and assign it to someone else. It's happened before. Why not this time?
I never saw the folders again so I continued to assume that's what happend.
Fast forward to one month later, which was about this time last week. I believe it was Thursday morning when she popped her head into my office and asked me where the spread sheets on these two people were. She also handed me another one to do. This was my response: "You should ask Nick. He's the one who did them for you."
Big mistake. No. HUGE mistake. Ha ha ha.
She replied, "Nick wasn't assigned these 'little projects.'"
I said, "Yes, he was. Remember? I came in the next morning to find the folders missing. I located them on his desk and saw he was working on the spread sheet for you."
"I assigned him a "little project" of his own. He was working on the revenue side."
"Then why did he have the Joint Interest Billing statements," I asked.
She stared at me like I was stupid and said, "He was referencing them."
Referencing what? I wanted to ask her that so bad but this popped out instead, "The JIB statements have nothing to do with the revenue side of things." She didn't respond so I also added this. "I assumed that since he had them, you had reassigned the task to him."
Her response was to walk off.
Where did she walk off, too? Well, she normally storms off to F.A.G.'s office so she can bitch about me, but this time she stormed off towards the bathrooms. She ended up being in the restroom for about 20 minutes so I am guessing she had the shits.
BUT, before she went to the restroom to relieve herself, she ran into F.A.G. in the commons area. They discussed a few things (ME, in other words), and then I hear F.A.G. say this, "She just didn't want to do her work."
Well, this riled me up! In fact, I became very livid over that comment. It wasn't because I was hormonal that day or that I was being overly sensitive about things. It was the fact that he had the gall to categorize me into the group of people who are lazy and don't want to do their work. In other words, they were saying I was just like them. UGH!
I stood right up, slammed my office chair back against the wall in the progress, and went straight out into that commons area. By this time F.A.B. had already dashed towards the restroom, but there was F.A.G. directly in my line of fire. I looked straight at him and I said, "How dare you accuse me of not wanting to do my work! It had nothing to do with that."
Perhaps I was yelling it because he started to walk towards his office. F.A.G. may be a 6' 400 pound male, but he has no balls. You confront him on anything and he won't look you directly in the eye. In this case, he was also disrespectful to me by ignoring me and walking off to hide in his filthy office. This only added fuel to my fire, though.
As he was walking off towards his office, I continued on my verbal rampage. I can't even remember what I said exactly, but it was along the lines that my assumptions rested with the fact that she had reassigned the task to Nick. Why I even took the time to try and explain myself is beyond me, but when I get worked up, I'm lucky that cuss words don't come flying out of my mouth. I'm shocked I didn't scream at him to grow those balls he so desperately needs.
Of course, F.A.B was taking forever in the bathroom. And like I said, she must have had the shits. It was either that or she was hoping spending that much time behind the closed door would calm me down. She might have heard me yelling at F.A.G., but I'm not sure. I don't remember yelling. I just remember being angry.
While I was waiting on her, I went directly to F.A.G.'s office and forced him to hear me out. I had him trapped in the office chair that's too small to hold him. The man's flab literally folds over the chair. I have a director's chair in my office for visitors to sit in, and thankfully he doesn't sit in it. I saw him thinking about it a couple of times when he came into my office to talk to my mom, but he thought better of it. Not to knock overweight people, but F.A.G. would have broken the chair. There's a difference between being overweight and being severely obese. He and F.A.B. are both severely obese. And while Karma may come and kick me in the ass later for saying this, I sometimes pray for the day that they have their artery clogged heart attacks so the office is rid of the wicked witch and her flying monkey.
To get back to the story.... I had him trapped in his office chair and I said, "Don't you ever.. EVER.. say things behind my back like that again. If you want to accuse me of something you say it to my face." I wanted to add in this but idle threats are pointless.... "IF you ever... EVER... talk behind my back in public like that again, I will make your office life a living hell."
When F.A.B. finally made it out of the restroom, I confronted her as well with the same things I said to F.A.G.. F.A.B. at least has some balls on her because she took it and dished it right back. =LOL= She said, "You shouldn't assume things." Remember, I said I had assumed that she had reassigned the task to Nick. My response to that was this, "Then you shouldn't be assuming that I don't want to do my work!"
She fell silent after that for a few minutes and then said, "Don't worry about doing (so and so's). I'll take it to your father and have him assign it." I said, "That's just fine with me, (F.A.B.)."
But you know what happened as soon as my dad arrived at the office that day? I said, right in front of F.A.B. and F.A.G. with a stern and serious look on my face and a very pissed off sounding tone of voice, "I need to talk to you about something VERY important as soon as possible. And I mean NOW."
When I relayed the story to my dad, as soon as we finished our little laugh-a-thon over the whole ordeal, he said to me, "Good for you. You stuck up for yourself." I said, "Thank you. And word of warning, just F.Y.I.... (F.A.B.'s) coming into your office later to have you handle it."
The witch and her monkey ignored me the rest of the day. I still don't know to this day if they went to my dad with their little complaints or not, but both have tried to make nice with me since. I almost wanted to look F.A.G. in the eye and say, "Do you honestly think I'm going to drop your comment and act like you didn't say anything?" But I didn't. My horoscope has been going on about adding fuel to the fire on a work related issue, imploring me not too. I assume it's over this little office fiasco so I'm taking it's advice.
For now.
* For those of you who may have taken offense to my overweight comments, I apologize. I'm not the skinniest person in the world, myself. I just really dislike F.A.G. and F.A.B.
When I went shopping with my mom this weekend, I made the comment that I wanted to eat at the Olive Garden for my 30th birthday. Then I realized that I wasn't going to be in town for that so I said, "Oh, wait. I'm going out of town." Of course, she asked me why. I said, "Well, because it's my 30th. It falls on a Friday. But mostly because I don't want to show up at work and find that everybody's wearing black."
This confused her slightly so I explained to her how everyone dresses up in black for people's milestone birthdays. I didn't want that happening on mine because I was depressed enough about turning 30. And then I said, "Well, wait. Nevermind. They probably wouldn't do that for me. Nobody at the office likes me. No. Scratch that. M. does. D. does. C. does............"
She was like, "The people who don't like you at the office don't like you because you're a threat."
Say what? "Huh?"
"You're the boss's daughter. He'd get rid of them way faster than he'd ever get rid of you. You're more important to him and they know this."
In the beginning when I first started working there, I knew this. Over time, and after a lot of frustration, I completely forgot about the balance of power in the office. After all, if it were up to me, F.A.G. and a few others would have been fired a long time ago. F.A.B. would still be around until her retirement because of her "loyalty" to the company. What loyalty, I ask? She'd be the second to stab my dad in the back, right after F.A.G.. Boy, does my dad know how to pick his employees or what?
But the point here is this... and I won't let it get to my head... I hold the power. It may not be ultimate power, but it's still power.
Tomorrow is my cousin's last day at work. She quit two weeks ago. This is the cousin who is still feuding with me over the desk. Yes, it has been almost 3 months and she's still upset at me for the office giving me an L shaped desk and placing her into an office of her own. I highly doubt she'll ever get over it, but I'm fine with that.
They are having a going away party for her at the office tomorrow during the lunch break. This means I have to go downstairs to eat and watch the rest of the employees socialize. It's the most uncomfortable position to be in, but since I am the boss's daughter and this girl's cousin, I have to show face.
I try to avoid socializing with the employees as much as possible, and since Esther and I are playing the childish game of "you don't exist to me" with each other, it's going to be some strange times.
I'd like to just go downstairs, grab my sandwich, and head back up to my desk. I wonder if I can get away with that? I doubt it, though.
I'm not the most outgoing person in the world. I've always suffered from a tiny form of social anxiety. There are days when I feel like I can conquer the world socially and days when I want to bury my head in the sand like an ostrich. When it comes to these uncomfortable situations, I want to be that ostrich instead of the butterfly.
The ostrich used to control my life. In fact, it controlled my life so much as a child that I'm sure a lot of people thought I was stuck up. Here's a life lesson for you: sometimes the most stuck up people in the world are really just extremely shy.
The butterfly comes out a lot more than it used too. It's still hiding behind the ostrich, though. And while I may have the balls to stand up for myself, I tend to have these anti-social moments where I don't want to deal with the majority of the world around me. I don't even like to chat online or on the phone with people when these moments hit.
I like to just curl up into a ball on the couch and read a book, slip under the covers and take long daily naps, jump into the shower and let the heat pound down my back until the water gets cold.... I even avoid going to the grocery store to get some food even though I'm completely out of it. If the cats are starving (which would never happen because I stockpile their food and kitty litter), I'll sacrafice my desires to hole up like a hermit.
I all ready have to sacrafice them by going outside to water my flowers, and showing up to work M-F to do the damn deposits. If I could get away with it during these anti-social moments, I wouldn't go to work at all. I wouldn't do a thing. I'd disappear off the radar until I felt like joining everybody again. All for a few hours, a few days, a few weeks of just being left alone. To me, that is heaven. That is my idea of eternal bliss. Sometimes.
Sometimes I hate it when these moods cross my path. Sometimes I ache to be different, to relate to people better, to flow with the masses in such a way that every single day is euphoric. I watch my siblings and my parents interact with people and I wonder why I can't be like that. I wonder why I can't joke the way they do with others, why conversation comes so easily for them. I wonder why they can walk into a crowded room, strike up a conversation with some random stranger and find themselves with a new friend. I did that in Boston after I filled my veins with alcohol. Only then do I become more like them... but I don't want to have to drink myself into a stupor just to release my wings.
Yep. I definitely suffer from something here, even if it's not an all time phobia. I'm going to have to look into this further until I can break it down completely and understand it's dynamics 100%. I need to find out what it is that fills me with anxiety. I need to figure out what causes me to want to be anti-social. I need to pin point the faults in my personality when it comes to this social crap and see what I can do to improve my people skills. And then I need to work on fixing what's wrong. Man, do I have a lot of work ahead of me here.
Sometimes I wonder if I was misplaced. Maybe something went wrong with my DNA while I was in the womb? Maybe this all has to do with the fact that I was born a month and a half early? I don't belong in my butterfly family.
