monster sarcasm rally

Ow!

People keep asking me what's wrong. Why am I so unhappy lately? Why am I not my usual witty, sarcastic self?

And I realised there is one stupid reason — this stupid tooth. It hurt for a month before I gave in and went to see an Evil dentist. Then I saw three different dentists five times before they were finally ready to take it out. That's two months of not sleeping well.

They took it out on Thursday. Now I've got constant, searing pain. I haven't slept through the night in months.

I'm tired. And I'm tired of being tired.

I would like to get back to enjoying my life now.

Friday the 13th

Today I have successfully:

• pissed off our clients;
• persuaded management that I’m incompetent AND requested my performance review;
• convinced a guy that I am desperate, cloying, annoying, demanding and a giant moron; and
• convinced somebody who wants my job that I am utterly rubbish at it.

Oh, and because it's that kind of day... It turns out the guy (in spite of all the interest he's shown) has a girlfriend. With whom he lives. Oops, did he forget to mention that? Before chasing away all the other guys who were looking interested...

   

Deja vu

One year ago I planned a trip to Toronto to clean up my house. On the 30th of October my grandmother died. I had to change my trip to go to Sarnia, 300 km outside of Toronto in the middle of nowhere for the funeral. This kicked off 6 months of awful, beginning with me spending 10 days in hospital, where they misdiagnosed me and treated me like the needle-sharing junkie whore they thought I was.

Fast forward one year.

I am in Toronto to clean up my house for sale. On the 30th of October my grandmother died. I have to change my trip to go to Sarnia for the funeral.

I don't think there will be anymore trips to Toronto for me.

I don't really care about your sister

So, ya... Two days in Edmonton. A day in Calgary. Back to Edmonton for another two days. A few days in Vancouver. A day and a half just outside of Vancouver. Back to Toronto for just under 48 hours. Then London for five days. Now back in Toronto. Jet lagged and just plain all-round lagged.

I woke up this morning with one thought on my mind: I hate my job. Except that's not even true. I can't actually work up enough enthusiasm to get a proper hate on. I'm just [shrug-pause] about the whole thing.

But I'll tell you what I do hate: the G20. I mean, not the G20 itself, and not the protests against the G20. No, just the whole hullabaloo or whatever. Seriously, the news headline thingers at the subway stations are have been going on about the G20 for weeks. I listen to people all day long at my almost-but-not-quite-awful-enough job going on about the security impacts of the G20 protests. The TV and the internet are full of paranoia-propaganda.

The banks are closed. Offices are closed. Offices that aren't closed are encouraging people to work from home. So, why aren't there any fewer people on the subway, I ask you.

At work they issued messages saying that we should all 'take precautions'. If we have to come into the office, we should dress casually so nobody thinks we're business people. Just not too casually, as that just wouldn't do. Because nothing screams NOT A BUSINESS PERSON quite so loudly as neatly pressed khakis and a buttoned-up golf shirt... But we need to make sure that we prominently display our security badges at all times so that, erm... ah... people know that we're business people.

And, for heaven's sake whatever you do, don't let anybody follow you into the building without scanning their own security badges. I do so love being glared at by my co-workers (whom I see EVERY DAY) for holding the door open for them.

That's what she said

I am really rather tired of the unending nasal incontinence.

And no, I've not heard back from the visa office. Well, no... Yes, I have. They sent me a lovely e-mail saying that due to higher than normal volumes there may be a small delay in processing.

Twelve Frakking Days

Three plus years I've been working towards this stupid work visa. Three plus years of neurotically checking the requirements website to make sure I'm still going to qualify... Three plus years of working my arse off and saving every penny I could while spending an obscene amount on an MBA... Seeing my income go down over that time, thanks to the frakking recession... And to quote Metalocalypse, the recession is an asshole.

I was 12 days away from meeting all the requirements. I already meet everything but the reserve funds thing (they're there, but they have to be there for 3 months). I have been chasing paperwork from the various parties and beating my head against a wall trying to make them understand what I need (no, the online slips are not good enough). TWELVE FRAKKING DAYS.

And then...

I re⁴²⁷-checked the visa services website today. And they've changed the requirements. As of yesterday.

I had 85 points. I need 75 points. Now I have 70 points. Frak me!

The one possible solution I can see is that IF I get my completion bonus* promptly at the end of this contract and IF the exchange rate stays at the obscenely inflated level it's at now and IF I make my application a month later than planned... Then I will just barely scrape by.

If anybody else has any suggestions, I'd love to hear them.

On the bright side, this means I may be able to make it to my friend's wedding in Vancouver in June after all.

__________________________________

* Euphemism meaning 'money I've earned but that my employer is holding back to make sure I don't leave before the end of the contract'.

A suitable job for a woman

So, I'm now more sure than ever that my fancy-pants promotion was a demotion in disguise, designed to get me out of people's hair. It's now more certain than ever that I can't stay in Canada, even if I wanted to. My reputation here is far too deeply entrenched and the industry too small for me to ever progress.

Really? If I'd wanted to be a secretary I would have... I don't know what I would have. I don't want to be a secretary or any of the 9 gazillion 'eu-femme-isms' that mean the same thing.

Today's song (and blog category) is brought to you by the Killjoys.

Things I [heart]

1. Getting stuck on the escalator behind some random jackasses who refuse to stand aside only to miss the subway by 3 nanoseconds.
2. Jackasses who think they're entitled to more than the rest of us get, and who seriously think we'll support them in their fight.
3. Jackasses who are too far up themselves to go to work, but still have time to do this:

Seven-layer post

Every day I think of things to write and every day I'm too lazy to follow through. 

_____________________________________ 

I've been speaking with several dog rescue groups about fostering. Most have turned me down (mainly because I can't commit to more than 6 months). Two accepted me, but then didn't have any dogs in need of care. 

Today one of them called me about a German Shepherd. They're currently doing a temperment assessment to see if he's suitable to be placed with me. If he is, he'll be coming later this week. 

Then one of the groups who turned me down called me. Well, okay, they didn't so much turn me down as just hate every answer I gave to their questions (for starters, they really didn't like that I had a job). But now they're desperate, so suddenly I don't seem so bad. Anyways, I said I didn't want a bonded pair as it would be unfair to my dog. So of course, they called about a bonded pair. 

Whatever. 

_____________________________________ 

We'll see what happens. A few weeks back I had a finance exam. I sat down to write it and promptly forgot everything I know. I barely remembered my own name. Since I'd done well in the class to that point, they agreed to let me rewrite, on the condition that I do so in Waterloo (150 km west of here) during business hours. So I arranged to take Monday off. At the last minute though something came up and they decided I had to work. 

I left the house at seven, drove 90 minutes to the university, wrote a three-hour exam, grabbed a smoothie to suffice as lunch, drove 90 minutes to the office, and worked until eight. Nice day off, eh?

_____________________________________ 

So, this swine flu thing... Love this article, by the way... Now normally I'd disregard all the hype and carry on with life as usual. But two things are making me just a wee bit paranoid this time. 

First off, I just finished reading Earth Abides by George R Stewart. If you haven't heard of it, it's a sci-fi book from the 1940s. It starts off with a post-grad university student doing an eco study of some isolated area in the mountains in California. He returns home after being completely alone for a month or two to find everybody's gone. It becomes apparent that some plague has wiped them out. 

He travels all over the US searching for survivors, and finds a mere handful. The book follows the changes in the earth as well as his life (and ultimately his little tribe) for a period of about 60 years. It's an excellent, well-thought-out and profoundly sad book. But, yes, the fact that I was reading this as the swine flu began to hit the news... Um, ya, little paranoia going on in my head. 

The other thing that's adding to my paranoia is that... Well... Remember the allergy attack I've been having for the last year? Did I mention I was on nasty, evil drugs I was on? Right. I'm taking immunosuppressants. I'm supposed to stay away from anybody who's the slightest bit sick. I've been instructed that if I have the slightest fever or anything, I am to check myself into the nearest emergency department. 

I may be a wee, little bit paranoid, but I think it's understandable. 

_____________________________________ 

Also, speaking of the nasty, evil drugs... My scalp is finally in good enough shape to colour my hair. Yay! I don't even care what colour it is. Just different, you know?

_____________________________________ 

Also, also, why does nobody ever understand when I'm joking? I hate that. Somebody will be joking around, saying absurd, blatantly obviously untrue things. I'll say something equally ridiculous on the same theme. Then the original joker will explain that he was joking and that I shouldn't take everything so seriously and that there's no need to get so upset. Sometimes they even apologise for having upset me. Really, what's up with that?

_____________________________________ 

Also, also, also, um... I forget.

Somebody please tell me something good

Because I wasn't already feeling miserable enough about life, the universe, and everything...

When I got home from yet another crappy day at work one of my housemates gave me an ultimatum. Either I begin shelling out an extra $160 a month to get the housekeeper in every week (instead of every other) or they are all going to collectively pay $160 less rent every month. What I have to do to come up with $160 a month is my problem.

Then I went to my finance class, where I wrote my final exam. And by 'wrote', I mean 'stared blankly at for three hours'. It was all stuff I have learned before. It was all stuff I know. It was all stuff, I generally find really easy. But tonight, nothing.

That's not funny

Back up 14 months...
I was promoted from The Girl Who Makes the PDFs to Professional Staff, an unheard of jump. The starting salary for the new position was 150% of what I was making at the time. Yes, that's right, I said 150%. Did I get that raise? No, I did not.

Maybe they're waiting for a probationary period, I thought.

Then they promoted somebody else in the same department. Do you think he got a raise?

12 months ago...
I talked to the boss. He made a big speech about how he couldn't give me a raise, even though he knew I deserved it, and he was very sorry, but he'd give me one as soon as he could and blah blah blah. Then he capped it off by telling me he had given Littlebabycryingpants a raise. Littlebabycryingpants! The same Littlebabycryingpants who:

1. had less experience,
2. had been there a year less,
3. was still support staff, and
4. was unreliable as all crap.

So, ya, she made more than I did.

8 months ago...
When the new boss took over, I talked to him about it. He said he was sure it my imagination.. I told him to look it up.

Then they hired a new guy. Do you think he made more than I did?

6 months ago...
When the bonuses dried up, I lost the excuse that maybe they make up for the difference in salary that way. So, I brought the issue up with the boss again. Again, he said he was sure it my imagination.. I told him to — really, really this time — look it up.

Then they hired 3 new kids (all with far less experience than I've got). Do you think they made more than I did?

A week ago...
I brought it up again. This time the bossman knew what I was talking about. He acknowledged that I really do make substantially less than my peers (all of whom have been with the company less time and the majority of whom have been in this position for less time). He apologised, but said there was no money in the budget for a raise.

A few hours ago...
They promoted a guy who's had my job for six months. Gee, I wonder if he'll get a raise? AND they announced they'll hire some newbie to take his place. Do I even need to ask?

I can't even pay my bills. And they keep hiring children for more money than I make.

And then the children I work with invited one another out for drinks to celebrate, making sure to leave me out of it.

And then one of them (the youngest) said he had to be home this evening to interview new potential housemates. Which led to a discussion of the candidates... Which led to the fact that one of them was a 30-year-old woman. Which led to much mockery, because what kind of 30-year-old woman is so pathetic that she needs to live in a house with a bunch of random people? She must be a complete loser.

And then I got an e-mail from Hans, who clearly thinks I am still just The Girl Who Makes the PDFs. This would explain why I get paid less than the admin staff. I mean, clearly I never really was promoted. I was officially, but in everybody's minds I'm still just The Girl Who Makes the PDFs. That's all I'm capable of, apparently.

$50 thousand for my MBA, and I'm still just The Girl Who Makes the PDFs. Good grief, I'm overpaid if that's all I am.

I have never felt worse about myself or my life or my future.

Beautiful

Why, yes, yes I do look terrible. Thank you for pointing it out. It's called eczema. Normally I can hide it pretty well just by keeping myself covered from chin to toe at all times (because who doesn't love wearing a turtleneck even in the middle of a Toronto summer).

Lately though (as you observed), it's found its way to my face as well. I apologise for the inconvenience you are caused by having to look at my hideousness.

To answer your questions... No, it's not contagious. Why, yes, I have tried whatever idiotic product you just suggested. Yes, it does hurt.

Your concern is heartwarming. The fact that I feel like my skin is on fire didn't clue me in. The 42 other people who've pointed it out in the last few days didn't clue me in. But now that you've pointed it out I understand just how horribly disgusting I appear.

I'm thinking of converting to Islam just so I can wear a burka all the time, preferably one of those ones that shows only the eyes.

Take a hint

If you find your comments are rejected, take a hint and go away. It's nothing personal, it's just that I find you the single most annoying person on the planet. Hmm, I guess it is personal. Still, go away. I'm tired of having to add every different IP address from which you visit to the banned list.

Frak you, you big bunch of goat-frakkers

Seriously people, don't just sit there gawping at me. Frakking do something! I'm sick of the whole somebody-else's-problem attitude. Why do I always have to be the responsible one?

Frak Earth

Dear Mr Hans Gruber, dark lord and supreme piss-head, BSc, MBA, CA, CPA, CGA, CMA, CFA, CBV, VIP, GED,

Thank you for deigning to speak with me directly this afternoon (while the Metatron Formerly Known as Peter the Zealot looked at his hands). I assure you, I understand what a deep honour you bestowed on me in so doing.

Your words served to set me straight on some of my misconceptions. For instance, I had a silly notion that it was all right to make personal plans for a Sunday afternoon. As I have to be in the Montreal office on Monday morning at 6:30, I (quite foolishly) assumed that I could catch a lunchtime flight on Sunday to enjoy a few hours of Sars time.

You explained that it was both 'unprofessional' and 'unacceptable'. I see now that I should have scheduled one for 3:00 in the morning so that you would not be inconvenienced by my inability to work 18 hours on my day off. Sleep is for the weak.

Earlier today the Metatron Formerly Known as Peter the Zealot expressed his/your displeasure with this fact. At that time I asked Bridget if it was possible to change my flight to one leaving later. She said no.

Again you explained that this was 'unacceptable'. What I should have done was command Bridget to rebook the flight.

Another foolish idea under which I've been operating pertains to the nature of 'work'. I naively believed that after 12 hours of sitting at my desk, I could take my remaining work home with me and complete it there.

Again you explained that this was 'unacceptable'. I now understand that this was sheer laziness on my part. 'Work' means being at my desk. Any work that I do at home or on the road or anywhere else is not work, but in fact rest.

I will take all these new pieces of information that you have imparted and give them all the attention they are due, which is to say I will alter my behaviour not one iota.

I do understand that you will very soon wish to fire me (assuming this is not your desire already). I have two things to say to that. Firstly, I'm not convinced that you would be successful in such an endeavour. This is because you do not have the authority to fire me as YOU'RE NOT THE BOSS OF ME. Not really, anyways. You see, your boss (who is also my boss) likes me. Your boss's boss likes me. Santa Claus likes me. So, good luck to you with that.

Secondly, should your boss or your boss's boss comply with your wishes... Well, good luck to the lot of you. Please, fire me. No, really, do it. I mean that. Please. I will walk away with a settlement that would make you blush, you self-righteous twat.

Sincerely,
Sars

PS: You seem to use the word unacceptable a lot. It gets old. Try switching it up with a synonym once in a while, such as improper, inadmissible, forbidden, unconscionable, unforgivable...

PPS: You're got something sticking out the back of your pants. Oh, sorry... Never mind. I see it's just the Metatron Formerly Known as Peter the Zealot's feet.  

Words cannot express

Mr Hans Gruber, the dark lord, does not speak to me directly. He speaks to me through the Metatron Formerly Known as Peter the Zealot.

The Metatron told me today how excited he is about his upcoming holidays, as he hasn't had any in a year. I said I empathised. He said I didn't understand, because I had two weeks off for The Worst Holiday Ever.

Um... Unexpected death in family? Racing across continents to come home more than a week early? Almost $1000 in extra fees for said privilege? Lost luggage?

Ya, he said. What's your point? It was still a holiday.

Two rants

Rant the First

I was promoted a year ago. It was nice to get the recognition as I'd already been doing the job unofficially for a year at that point. About six weeks back my position was officially eliminated. They let everybody else in the group go.

I was told I wasn't being let go as I was too useful.

Of course, this is partially because Littlebabycryingpants stomped out of the office while I was in London, meaning I was the only person who fully knew that job. I trained one person to do part of the job, another to do another part. I serve as back-up. I serve as general, all-round trouble-shooter and take on whatever special projects come up.

The bossman says I'm critical to the department and he won't let me go, which is good. But it doesn't keep me busy. So I came up with a great idea for how I could help the company increase revenue while advancing my own career, all while still managing my current tasks.

I approached the bossman with my idea. He thought it was great. But... You knew there would be a but, right? But he says if he approaches his boss with it, it will expose excess capacity in the department, thus putting my head on the chopping block. So he says to keep my mouth shut. If he can find a way to bring it up without risking my job, he will.

Right. How stupid is that? Shut up and do nothing and you'll keep your job. Offer to do more and they'll have to let you go.

Rant the Second

I stopped in to get my hair cut after work. First the dude asked me when my baby was due (a sure sign I was slouching). Then he told me my boyfriend had been in recently. I've no idea who he might have meant, as I've never come in with anybody before. Jackass.

Then he told me I look tired. Good grief.

When he was finished I thought huh, that's not at all what I had in mind. Still, I decided it was all right. When I got home however, I looked in the mirror.

He made me look like a mum!

No, really

Dear housekeeper,

I'm confused. I fired you last week. You know, because you were crap... I came home today to find that you'd been back and you'd cleaned — and I use that term loosely — the house again. Do I need to move your desk into the basement before you get the hint?

Look, I really can't afford to pay you $80 a week to come in and rearrange the dust and play hide-and-go-seek with the dishes.

So now I've sent you another message asking you please, please, pretty please not to come back. I've also changed the code on the front door. Please get the hint. Of course, I imagine you'll just break in through a window next week instead.

Gah!

Exasperatedly,
Sars

Today is crap

Left on the message board in my kitchen...

Dear Sars, You are not a nice person. Have a nice life.

That pretty much encapsulates the day I've had. Nothing disastrous or tragic, just a gazillion little reminders that I fail to live up to the universe's expectations.

Venting is normal

My best friend isn't ALLOWED to come visit me. Her boyfriend says she can't visit because her asshole ex lives in the same city I do. Yes, her ex is an asshole. I don't know him and certainly don't live with him. I know his name is John and that he lives somewhere in Toronto. And for that, she is forbidden to come visit me.

Temporary hypoglycemia

Dear Pizza People on Planet Earth,

Telling me how many slices a pizza will be cut into is not an acceptable or appropriate answer to a question about the size of your pizza. To the best of my knowledge, a slice is not an SI unit of measurement.

To demonstrate, imagine yourself slicing a teeny, tiny pizza into eight slices. Then imagine yourself slicing an enormous pizza — one that would feed a crowd of teenagers — into eight slices.

I give up. You still don't get it, do you?

Ugh. Oh, and while I'm at it... When, after I explain the above to you while you smile vacantly at the phone, I ask you how much the same pizza is, please do not respond by telling me how many slices you intend to cut it into.

English is undoubtedly your first (and probably your only) language. You might want to finish learning it.

Now shut up and bring me my food!

Sars

Opiates have become the religion of the masses

My schedule is solidly booked between now and the end of the month. Nothing is flexible.

I need a root canal. I am in almost constant pain in spite of all the drugs. When I have dental surgery, I spend the three subsequent days throwing up every time I move. I don't know whether this is psychosomatic or a reaction to the anaesthetic. Either way, it means that I need at least three days off to have the root canal. This means the surgery gets to wait until April.

I wonder how bad of a drug addicition I can work up to in the next three weeks...

Stupid is as stupid something something

I would just like to take the opportunity to say that today is a stupid day.

Nothing is working out. It started when I went to catch the bus to work. As I walked the 20 or 30 metres up the street to the stop, the light began to change. Oh good, I thought, if that is the bus I hear, at least it'll have to stop.

Nope. Scratch that. Bus driver sailed right on through the intersection as the light turned red.

Fine. I walked the 50 or so metres to the next street over to catch a different bus to take a different route to work. Just as I was about to cross the street to the stop, the bus flew past.

All right. I continued walking the rest of the way to the subway. It's not that far, but it's not a walk I want to make at 20 past six in the morning.

I got to the station just as, you guessed it, the train pulled out.

And for the next six hours everything I've touched has failed or generated unexpected results. I've accomplished a grand total of nothing today, which would be fine if I'd actually done nothing. But I haven't done nothing. You know?

And I was walking around with my fly down again today. I should learn. But I don't.

Special super-important update: I just got mashed potato in my hair.

Whinge

Dear Mrs Elton,

Stop looking at me. I don't like you. No, I won't be your friend. Go bug somebody else.

Sars

My life sucketh

Dear God,

Could I please have a do-over?

You know those days when everything goes wrong?

This was not one of those days. Rather this was the kind of day wherein every time I opened my mouth, I offended somebody or got somebody in trouble. Every conversation I had made me feel worse about life, the universe, and um... everything.

The wrath of the Ferengi and the incomprehensible fury of Littlebabycryingpants only made it all worse. I feel like a big, steaming puddle of Flatula-poo.

Sincerely,
Sars