Work Buffoonery

I rarely write (or even talk) about what goes on at my job. It’s partly a privacy thing and it’s partly due to the simple fact that I find my job boring a lot of the time. Not boring to the point that I’m ripping out my hair with nothing to do, but I often think the amount of backstory required to contextualize any sort of anecdote about work isn’t worth the outcome. The outcome being a mediocre, mildly amusing story.

Regular readers of this blog, on the other hand, will also note that one thing I LOVE to do is complain and bitch. So…here goes…

Any sort of text based description of my job and duties would be wholly inadequate to describe the sheer vastness of my skill set and how said skill set is used to great effect in my current position. No one else in the department does what I do, or knows as much about our systems as I do. That’s not me blowing air into my already inflated head, it’s just a fact. There’s a reason I’ve stayed here this long and that reason is the people the satisfaction the fulfillment the money. You don’t get the kind of money required to keep you in a mediocre job unless you’re pretty damn good at it (or at the very least, damn good at making yourself look indispensable). I’m not saying I’m rolling in loot (far from it); I’m as comfortable as a 30-year-old who doesn’t own any property could be, well maybe not THAT comfortable…

Being so indispensable means that a lot of people in the department contact me when they have problems or they need something done. I have no problem helping out someone who is having trouble with a program that is beyond their level of comfort or someone who can’t figure out why some anomalous behaviour is taking place in the program. I don’t, however, like helping people who are clearly using me as a human garbage can for the work they are unwilling to do for themselves. My bullshit detector in life is fairly attuned, but at work it is the equivalent of a Hatori Honzo sword…

There is a woman I work with whom covers me when I’m away and vice-versa. Our two jobs overlap a lot, but are quite divergent from each other at the same time. This woman is a sweetheart and has worked here for nearly 30 years – lovely lady. Problem is, she seems to enjoy being the human garbage can for work that others are unwilling to do. I guess it is probably some psychological hold-over from her days in the secretarial pool…or the typing pool…

Anyway, she’ll bust her ass at 11:30pm on the last day of the month to process something for someone that needs it completed by 12am (even if said say occurs on a WEEKEND). That’s how stupid dedicated she is. This practice becomes problematic when this selflessness is at the detriment to others…namely me.

This weekend, she did a bunch of work from home. Unfortunately, a screw-up in the servers and accessibility has meant that she cannot upload said work to the servers and as a result, the server is not accurate (as far as what is done and what isn’t). And it won’t be accurate until her finished work can be reconciled with the server copies of this work. It is a huge pain in the ass.

On the first day of every month, I have to run month-end reports from the previous month (including figures of work that has been completed). Since this weekend was the end of September and today is the first day of October – the figures won’t be accurate. In other words, because she decided to bend over backwards to help some lazy-ass-muthah-fuckahs, I’m sitting here raring to go on a Monday morning and am effectively being told I can’t do jackshit.

I’m more than a little annoyed.

And to top it off, I’ve just been told that instead of working from home tomorrow, I have to be in the office. For what, you ask? An office function. In other words…nothing to do with my job. That makes me want to hurt people.

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~ by seangstm on October 1, 2007.

2 Responses to “Work Buffoonery”

  1. I hate, er I mean HATE office functions; unless there is a buffet with a HUGE hunk of beef being carved up at the end….just saying….

  2. Yeah. I try to be as anti-social at work as possible. It’s SO much less stressful. The only stress comes, actually, from idiotic and pointless functions like this – and me being FORCED to attend them like a 3 year old kid.

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