My New Boss is Kind of Cool

With the restructure at work I think I might have landed a boss who gets me. Or at least, one who doesn’t report me for my dreadful behaviour.

The scene: My desk. Earlier today an email went out company wide announcing my new boss’ job, except they spelled the Manager at the end of his job title as Manger.

12 to New Boss:

Very much looking forward to having you as my Manger. I have purchased a nativity scene for you to display at your desk to remind you of the importance of your new role.

New Boss to 12:

If they can go from Manager to Manger, imagine what you get from Analyst…

12 to New Boss:

Um. Like I told my other half. I don’t do that. Or swallow. So you can just rethink that one.

New Boss to 12:

I hadn’t actually thought that far through and might not have ended up in the same place. But I am now. Brrrrr!

You Should See the Other Guy

Since Friday many people have asked me what I have done to my hand. My instant response is “You should see the other guy!”, followed by a sorry shake of the head and perhaps a little faux boxing action. Of course, reality is far different, but the true story as to why I am sporting a bandaged wrist is far more boring – I was on my way to work on Friday when a charming man in a business suit shoved me in his panic to get off the train, and I went flying. No, he did not stop to see if I was ok. Pig.

On my arrival at work, my simple request for an ice pack sent the first aid officer absolutely mental. I had some trouble understanding why I would need to be carried on a stretcher for a sore arm. Turns out they haven’t had a first aid incident since the new first aid room opened and they all got trained so it was an exciting day. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if they sneaked in a few photos to put in the weekend papers. And so off to the doctor I was sent, with requests for x rays and reports, for this was a workers comp claim, having happened on the way to work.

If you ever hurt yourself, please let it be at work! I have never had such fuss made of me. The cynical amongst you would say that’s because it’s like free money for the medical practice, the insurance company probably pays more than medicare. I found it hard to believe that I had to beg the doctor to be allowed to come back to work today, Tuesday, several days after the incident, and now several work days behind! So I am back on light duties only. I didn’t bother explaining to the doctor that light duties would cover any day.

Short Week, Long Face

It might have been a short week this week after the public holiday on Monday, but it seems to have been the longest short week in the whole world.

My bank are a bunch of arses. The paperwork for my new mortgage has so far been lost twice and once drawn up with the wrong surname on it. I still haven’t signed it and I am supposed to, by court order, give my ex a rather large cheque by COB tomorrow. I somehow doubt that is going to happen on time. I finally got an apologetic email from my mortgage broker after I emailed him this morning and suggested that when the paperwork was ready perhaps he could deliver it to me IN JAIL, where I will be languishing, having been thrown in the clink. I still do not have a contract to sign, however.

The Boyfriend got the shits and quit his job yesterday. Idiot. Personally I think a better plan may have been to get a new job first, then tell them how they are a bunch of *insert appropriate word here*s.

Yesterday I got confirmation that while I will still have a job and the same salary in the restructure, my job title changes to something about 5 levels down. Oh, and I’ll be responsible for more than before. The new job title in no way reflects what I will really be doing and that shits me immensely.

A friend’s girlfriend who had a bad asthma attack and failed to get CPR in time during the recent dust storms has just had her life support turned off. Her 13 year old child thinks that because she has not died yet she will recover. The doctors tell us she is brain dead.

I made The Boyfriend’s parents very teary last night when they realised that me getting my house back might mean we spend less time with them. I feel like a thief who is taking away their baby (their grown up fully adult baby but whatever).

I feel torn about having made The Ex leave my house – I have been financially supporting him for about 3 years while he plays a stupid online game that rhymes with Schmorld of Schmarcraft for about 15 hours a day. It is finally time to pull the plug, move him out of my house, stop paying his bills, and give him a big cheque in exchange for the deed to the house. It’s well overdue but it feels sad anyway.

One of the girls in the office who I was commiserating with earlier about how much this week sucks just came into my office and said “As if that’s not enough I now have the Wiggles song Wake Up Jeff in my head!” I have cheered myself up by telling her I have the cure. She is very silly for agreeing. I got her to sing the chorus of Rah Rah Rasputin. Well, at least she doesn’t have The Wiggles on the brain any more. She is stalking around the office telling all that she is going to kill me, but at least I’m smiling now.

Add This to my List

Apparently it’s not normal to have a list of lists. What’s wrong with that, I say? I have lots of lists – a master list surely is a smart thing to keep all those lists in order. When I recently announced to my family that I have a master list, to keep track of my lists, and that each list is hyperlinked from the master list? Yeah, they all went very quiet. Then they all slowly shook their heads. (Well, I need a few lists – they keep me calm. Yes, I do realise I have a touch of OCD. But who doesn’t need a list for weekend holidays (two holiday houses, so that’s 2 different lists already), a list for overseas trips, a list of what needs renovating in my house (a looooong list, that one), a list of things I need to do, a list of what is for dinner that week each night, a grocery list, a work to-do list – you get the general idea.)

I bet none of them have cheese that looks as good as mine does though.

I hope it’s going to feed me well – the big R is going on at work (*shudder* – redundancies). I have to reapply for my job. Yep, the one I got bullied talked into applying for earlier this year.

Snippets

On Friday I accidentally won another huge beef roast at The Local. I’m getting pretty good at making roast beef now, that’s for sure. Although I am getting a bit sick of roast beef sandwiches. This week’s roast was 2.5kg (5.5 pounds) and it was boneless so not any part of that weight was from a bone. Last week’s was even bigger. Luckily, I am not thinking of turning vegetarian any time soon.

The last 3 weeks have been rather boss-free at work, with him being on holidays. He’s back today. Something tells me I won’t be getting home early all week this week. Or coming in late. Gee the last 3 weeks were good though.

This financial year is the first year I am in charge of a budget at work. We are 1 month into the financial year and I have discovered already items that are regular charges that I did not budget for. This should be an interesting learning experience!

This is my little Ned. Ned likes to fall asleep while reading books. Ned was named after Ned Kelly the bushranger.

I booked a holiday in December. A cruise. It was a bargain price or I probably would have opted for something more exciting. I found out that someone from my work has booked the same cruise. Actually 2 people have – they both work at my work. I am friendly with them because I learned long ago to be nice to people at work, and they will remember that and help you out when you need it. If I didn’t have to be nice according to my rule I would say they are both wombats (waste of money, brains and time). Must spend next 4 months working out avoidance strategies and studying the layout of that ship.

Gifted

I’ve had troubles with one particular door at the new workplace. I can never get it to open for me. I swipe my security card and can never seem to open the door, and the security guards in the foyer are always having to rescue me. To the point where I have started walking a different way around the building.

Today I worked out the trick. As I swiped and swore, pulling the door unsuccessfully with every swipe, I read the sign on the door. Yep, the one that says PUSH.

What Not to Wear

This morning I was sitting on the train on the dreary commute to work. I was just about to take off my coat, as it was rather stuffy in the train. Luckily I managed to stop myself just in time. If I hadn’t, the train full of people would also have just realised that I was wearing my shirt inside out. Instead, I stayed warm and giggled to myself all the way to work.

In other news, reading and posting from work is getting harder these days, big brother is watching. I can read through Google Reader, but can’t always click through to comment.

Perhaps It Was All That Rain?

It’s been a wet few weeks here lately. The rain’s been fairly constant. I’ve been thinking of building an ark. Well, it would be raining – it’s almost Easter, and it always rains at Easter, particularly when you have plans to take your best friend and her two children to the south coast for the long weekend.

It might be all that rain that has caused today’s dilemma but I don’t care what it is. I want it gone.

I’m sitting in my office, a little after 9am, contemplating the long day ahead. About every 5 or 10 minutes I hear a chirping sound. I think there is a frog in my office. I cannot be held responsible for what might happen if little Kermit decides to jump on my lap. I once had a spider down my top, and screamed blue murder in the middle of the office while ripping off my shirt. Imagine what could happen if the frog jumps up my leg.

Edited to Add: Erm, never mind about the frog. It turns out that if you have a personalised Google page and there’s something on it that makes noise when it refreshes, it sounds just like a frog when heard though the headphones that are sitting on the desk. And now I need to deal with the Facilities Manager, who is on his way up to my office to find a non existent frog.

Poetry in Motion

Ah, Friday. Poets Day. Couldn’t come a minute too soon either. Life remains busy while I learn the ins and outs of the new job. Should I worry that if asked what I have learned about my new job, I would answer “The toilet paper is softer at the old office, and the handtowells were better quality there too”? Of course, now that I have my new office set up, I’ve discovered I am being moved to another floor. The only thing that really impacts me is the extra half hour each way in the commute – being away for an extra hour or two a day seems to still take its toll on me, but I’m sure I’ll get used to it eventually.

Late at night I think over the funny things that happened to me that day, and draft blog posts in my mind. However by morning I have forgotten just what it was. It is quite possible that half asleep mind ramblings aren’t so funny in the light of day. I’ll see if I can come up with material over the weekend instead. I’m going to a hangi tomorrow, and I suspect that will be rich in content. Never having attended one before, I’m quite interested to see how it is done.

Happy Friday, and don’t forget it’s Poets Day!

Oh, Noes!

The executive wing at work, where I now reside for much of my Monday to Friday waking hours? The toilets are unisex. I’m not sure why, but I can’t even pretend to be happy about that.