*sigh* Fridays.
I was totally going to go for a run this morning. And then, in the middle of getting dressed, I realized that (a) it was raining and (b) I have no iPod for the moment, meaning I have no music, woe. So no run today, I think.
Work is continuing to be managed by suits with no-clue-of-how-things-work attitudes. We're down to three people, plus the temp from the other end of the warehouse who has screwed up more than one order and who we think has all the talent of, say, a dyspeptic cat. And at the same time Management is saying "Oh, you have to cut back your overtime. Despite that you have more orders. And less people. And this new system which takes longer to do most things and drops orders on you late in the day. But remember, they all have to go out today. Plus you need to catch up on this return processing. Oh, and can you do this side project for me? It'll just take a few hours. ASAP. But remember, as little overtime as possible! Kthnxbye."
RAAAAAAAAAAAAAGE.
Yeah. It's been that kind of week. On the plus side, I'm actually making progress on the returns pile. I do so by staying 30 - 45 minutes after the regular last-ship-pickup time, because I'm too damned busy at any other time in the day to do otherwise. And now Management's saying, ohhhhhh, no, you can't stay late. And you need to do less overtime. BUT THERE'S NO ONE ELSE WHO'S REALLY WILLING TO CLOSE, AND THESE RETURNS DON'T DO THEMSELVES. (Trust me on that last part. Honest. I tried that for several months when we were swamped with end of quarter and the switchover, and the only thing they did was collect dust.)
It's like I need to do things so as to get the responsibilities of my job done, and yet these idiotic suits keep cutting me off at the ankles. It's not enough that I have to work 11-hour days just to try to keep up, noooooo, they insist that I do it with mere EIGHT-hour days. And when told that it's just not possible, they respond with the ubiquitous greasy weaselly excuse of "Heeeeey, who you talkin' to?"
Clearly, responding with "I'm talking to someone who hasn't got the slightest clue how day to day real life operations of shipping ACTUALLY WORK" would probably be detrimental to my continuing employment. *headdesk*
So. Weekend. Soon. Sarah Connor, Dollhouse (maybe), BSG, gaming, friends, Watchmen. Probably in that order. Yaaaaaay. *waves flag of meager social life feebly*
Work is continuing to be managed by suits with no-clue-of-how-things-work attitudes. We're down to three people, plus the temp from the other end of the warehouse who has screwed up more than one order and who we think has all the talent of, say, a dyspeptic cat. And at the same time Management is saying "Oh, you have to cut back your overtime. Despite that you have more orders. And less people. And this new system which takes longer to do most things and drops orders on you late in the day. But remember, they all have to go out today. Plus you need to catch up on this return processing. Oh, and can you do this side project for me? It'll just take a few hours. ASAP. But remember, as little overtime as possible! Kthnxbye."
RAAAAAAAAAAAAAGE.
Yeah. It's been that kind of week. On the plus side, I'm actually making progress on the returns pile. I do so by staying 30 - 45 minutes after the regular last-ship-pickup time, because I'm too damned busy at any other time in the day to do otherwise. And now Management's saying, ohhhhhh, no, you can't stay late. And you need to do less overtime. BUT THERE'S NO ONE ELSE WHO'S REALLY WILLING TO CLOSE, AND THESE RETURNS DON'T DO THEMSELVES. (Trust me on that last part. Honest. I tried that for several months when we were swamped with end of quarter and the switchover, and the only thing they did was collect dust.)
It's like I need to do things so as to get the responsibilities of my job done, and yet these idiotic suits keep cutting me off at the ankles. It's not enough that I have to work 11-hour days just to try to keep up, noooooo, they insist that I do it with mere EIGHT-hour days. And when told that it's just not possible, they respond with the ubiquitous greasy weaselly excuse of "Heeeeey, who you talkin' to?"
Clearly, responding with "I'm talking to someone who hasn't got the slightest clue how day to day real life operations of shipping ACTUALLY WORK" would probably be detrimental to my continuing employment. *headdesk*
So. Weekend. Soon. Sarah Connor, Dollhouse (maybe), BSG, gaming, friends, Watchmen. Probably in that order. Yaaaaaay. *waves flag of meager social life feebly*