Tuesday, October 12, 2004

• I finished the project at about 3 p.m. Mr. S decided he didn't really need it by noon, but that 4 p.m. was fine, and I got it done early, with Joe breathing down my neck. I could have been nice to Joe, but I had so little sleep and he's so pedantic.

   

  Anyway, Mr. S didn't let me go early, even after I finished all that.

   

  An aside: I swear to Jeebus, if I hear that Darlene Hooley for Congress commercial one more time, I'm gonna get all Elvis on that TV. Oregon friends, you know the one. The A to Z one, which is just a stupid concept to begin with, and then there's that annoying robot voice. I've talked to Darlene a few times and she's one of the nicest, most down-to-earth people you can imagine. But I confess I'm tempted to vote against her just to punish her for approving such a stupid message, not to mention the most annoying commercial ever to hit the airwaves. Seriously, Darlene, if you did a feel-good commercial about how you've connected with the people in your district and truly acted as their representative, you'd win in a landslide. Don't worry about what the other guy is doing. You're a congressperson, and he's not.

   

  Back to Mr. S:

   

  He called at 5 and said he was on his way to the office (read: wait around for me, even though you've worked 24 ½  of the last 30 hours).  Joe and I waited, even though I wanted to get home and see my Red Sox. I wasn't in the best mood--I don't do well without sleep--and Mr. S came in the door and started asking me questions, even though I was on the phone, picking up voice mail like he asked me to. Finally, in frustration, I hung up the phone and said, "I can't listen to the voice mail when you're talking!"

   

  He was carrying an armload of things--binders, big envelopes, who knows what else. He said he was asking me if it was OK to turn on the copier because he didn't want it to interfere with my phone call. Yup, he was talking loudly to make sure he wasn't bothering me.

   

  Then, he had a little tantrum. He threw all his binders and stuff on the floor like a toddler. I ignored him, just like I used to do when my kids pulled stunts like that.

   

  He looked at a stack of documents I'd made for him, and noticed the date wasn't on them. We don't normally put the date on things like this (lists), so he was just trying to pick on me because he was angry. He started in on his "I guess I need to be more explicit; it's my fault for not being clear (read: it's your fault for being stupid)." He lectured me about shy we needed the date on it. I told him I could write the date (this wasn't some big formal thing), or I could stamp it on, but then he went into martyr mode: "Oh, no, I'll just find a way to deal with it somehow.")

   

  No "thanks for working so late last night," no "good job getting it done on time.

  
  So screw him. After the baseball game, I left him a message to let him know I'm going in late tomorrow. I need to catch up on my sleep.

  • 10:11 PM
  • 1 view
  • 42 eprops
  • 21 comments