Welcome Back, Meaning! (aka The Parental Retreat)

DAFUQ was I thinking??

You know when you’re struggling with something at your new job and your boss comes at you in full-on, Anal Annie “test mode” and you silently and proudly accept said challenge and conquer it LIKE A BOSS!?

Well, that didn’t happen.

Deed to Doghouse With a Catfood Pantry

Last week was one of definitive FUCKED-UPPEDNESS (work with me, people; I’m in a “state”).

First off, one of 2 internal jobs I applied for turned me down. 😦  I’m happy for the person who got it since she’s genuinely awesome.  But on a selfish note, it kinda sucks for me. Again. Rejection sucks; even if you’re realistic in your expectations…

The Half-Week From HELL!

It is only the THIRD day of this week.  So far there have been a rainbow assortment of annoyances leading to an increasing level of infuriation.

– I’ve assisted degreed adults in the capacity of a Special Education teacher.  For stuff EVERYONE in the office workforce should already know like email and printing a flipping document.

Things I (THANKFULLY) Missed by Not Being Able to Afford a Vacation This Summer

So summer is almost over & there was no vacation this year.  Well, we DID go to Daytona Beach last November but took a sacred oath after coming home (to the aftermath of some Farmer Ted-style shenanigans courtesy of my Cling-On son) to NEVER GO AWAY AGAIN until Cling-On moves out.  And leaves his keys BEHIND.

Preview spot: SNARKNADO…

*Best read with Mr. Moviephone’s voice in your head to enhance dramatic tone. Roll tape!

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 AS IF A NIGHTMARE, DEAD-END JOB WASN’T BAD ENOUGH – SNARKNADO! is NOW. Scanning.  IN!…

NOT just another ANGRY ADMIN … BEYOND your everyday SARDONIC SECRETARY – her witticisms punctuated by the blood-red lips of a snark-slashed smile…

Seven-years jaded & increasingly resentful OF THE MUTATING MOUNTAINS OF PAPER ON HER DESK and the pitiful complaints of Professional Idiots,

SHE’S… …HAD… …ENOUGH!

Friday KILL or “Why Edita REALLY Should Buy a Ticket to BOTTOM-LINE TOWN”

A little song to illustrate my mood but what I also wish certain people (ahem, you KNOW who you are!) would do when they see me.  Moving on…

Nothing makes me madder than someone whose powers of communication, or lack thereof, keeps me from making some kind of forward progression.

Progress matters to me, especially in my place of employment – progress in diminishing the piles of paper on my desk; progress in my exodus downstairs for my morning coffee; progress in the general direction of the cafeteria and DO NOT come between me and that hand-scanner at 5:00 (unless you just happen to be my boss)!

The “Accidental” Banana

Things have been unusually quiet on the Edita front.  Like all such things, this was too good to be true and not meant to last… Kind of like money in my bank account. Or reality-show marriages…

Salad With a Side of STANK??

You have been warned, salad-serving Crankypants!

Here’s a little bit of advice – if you have a problem with my face, or just with people in general, then maybe you shouldn’t be working in food-service.

What Happens if I Click “Send”?

Dear Mr. Omar,

We have had it up to here with your waterlogging shenanigans. It’s not just the fact that you douse the toilet seat; it isn’t solely the way you splash the mirror like an exorcist with holy water or that you flood the countertop and make puddles on the floor for some unknown, idiotic reason. It’s worse than that and you are now under fair warning…

A Little Less Conversation…

So in this professional journey of never-ending frustration, I’ve realized that it’s not entirely my fault that I cannot get shit done around here.  It seems like every time someone else’s input is required to complete something, like keeping current on my share of the water bill or getting an answer about a notice from OMH, I seem to always arrive in the middle of some tedious, long-winded personal conversation.  Because we have nothing better to do at work, apparently.

Showers, Spies and Crusty Microwaves

So there’s this situation at work which I, as (my) luck and position would have it, have the good fortune of handling.

It seems for some time now that someone has been splashing around in the downstairs ladies bathroom. There have been several complaints from the ladies about getting butt-soaked and general watery mayhem.  Several disturbing times a day, water will be found all over the counter, the floor, the toilet seat, the mirror, the doorknob.

Um, WTF! Was our potty being used by a certain someone to enact a secret water-ritual every flipping day??

Calamity Pane

So for 3+ years my coworker, J,  and I have had this ongoing debate, aka WAR, about the front entrance to our building.  We have a glass door complete with prominent metal frame and handle, next to which is a floor-to-ceiling picture window.

Crimes and Misty-Nomers

During a brief spell in my youth, I wanted to change my name. I considered something like Leyla, which was popular and pretty. It wasn’t that I hated my name – it’s just that people ALWAYS got it wrong and it has been pissing me off my whole life.

Crazy Bird Lady (part 2)

(See Part 1 here)

She will talk your darn ear off

Give a second or two

It will turn to 10 minutes at least

And her manner, it seems

Is unfriendly at best

Crazy Bird-Lady (part 1)

Do not come seeking payment –

She’s out feeding the birds

Never mind she comes hourly; same as we

Do not call her for “friendly”

She’s too busy for that