August 11, 2005
Doesn't matter now but I shot him down for everyone to see.
Hi. Don't fucking yell at me for telling the Mexican architect that she had a call when it was a little after 1 and she was finishing up lunch. I asked whether she wanted to take it or get a message. It's my job. It really wasn't necessary for five of you to drown out her answer with "give her a break, jeez, Dianna, what's wrong with you?"
What's wrong with me, evidently, is that I get up from my desk and run up and down the stairs to track all of you down when people are returning your phone calls. I could let you play phone tag indefinitely, and you'd probably be happier about it, but happy or not you're not the ones I answer to. I answer to your boss, who likes for work to get done in his office. This may occasionally require you to look up from your plate of chicken and say either "oh, sure, I'll answer that" or "I'm still at lunch, give him my voicemail instead", for which I'm terribly sorry.
By the way, it's still not funny when you tell me that chicken is a vegetable and ask if I'd like some. Go fuck yourselves.
This job is starting to get to me. I want to be back in my library cubicle with no one talking to me except to ask me how things work. If I can get my old job back when I go back to school, I'll happily lose 25% of my hourly wage and 50% of my hours for the sake of losing 80% of my irritation.
Posted by dianna at August 11, 2005 01:47 PM
If they want a reprieve from verbal notice of telephone calls, then boy do I have a system for you.
Late at night we could wire up a switchboard to a a device in their chair and giant neon system on their wall.
The next morning, when someone has a call, all you have to do is press their specific button on the switchboard. That will send electricity coursing through their chair and start the neon lights flashing, "YOU HAVE A PHONE CALL, ASSHOLE."
If that's too radical, we could just have the switchboard cause their phones to explode whenever they have a phone call. It would both let them know that someone is trying to reach them, and free them from the oh-so-onerous task of picking up their own phones.
I really, really, really love you.
Alternately, maybe some reverse psychology. When I ring their extension, a small scrolling message appears on their computer screen.
"Don't answer that call. You have to finish what you're doing. Don't you dare pick up that phone!"
Or you could rig their phones to constantly call The Boss' cell phone. Imagine how happy he would to find 15,284 missed calls, all of them from Annoying Coworker #s 2-8.
*CLEARLY* they're far too busy to pick up their phones. So they should be less busy.
Whenever their phone rings, the monitoring system immediately powers off their computer and sets fire to their desk.
Oooh, yeah. Or, when the first phone call doesn't go through, six seatbelts fly out of various parts of the architect's desk, trussing him/her up like a fly and trapping him/her at the desk. The seatbelts don't disengage until an incoming call is answered.
After three hours, it will become necessary to pick up a phone call, if only to be released to go to the bathroom.
Me, I prefer the stabbing.