accounts of "work" and allusions to "drugs".
Here, let me update moar.
01.) Work today. I was told that I "have to" answer the phone when superfuckingasshole Ted calls (I can't just put him through to voicemail as I have been, as a preemptive strike against hostility and verbal abuse). And okay, I've been really fair about taking criticism there. They tell me something and even if I don't necessarily agree with it and EVEN IF I'M NOT THE ONE WHO FUCKED IT UP, I don't fight back - I have even apologized for other people's mistakes without ratting them out, it's just... whatever, basically. But when she told me this? That I had to talk to him? I said no. I actually stood up for it because it's like, no, he lost the privilege of being picked up when he MADE ME CRY. He's made Jane cry. He's such a dick to everyone that NOBODY WANTS TO TALK TO HIM. NOBODY. He is incredibly verbally abusive and has created a hostile work environment. We've all taken to putting him straight to the CEO's voicemail when we see him show up on the caller ID. And I was told by my supervisor that I have to answer the phone for him, I can't just put him through anymore. I fought her on it, but then mail came so she walked away. Next time I saw her, I asked her why we can't just give him the CEO's direct line - there is no reason he needs to call the actual office ever again. "Have we tried this route?" I asked her. She said she'd go talk to Bob, which was nice because it meant she was taking me seriously. Later, I saw her in with both of the ~big guys~, saying this Ted thing was "a real problem", and she told an anecdote about how she threw one of her employees out of her restaurant because he grabbed a coworker's arm. So my question is, why is verbal abuse so tolerable. I'm sure if the fucker WERE here, he'd have NO problem grabbing my arm. But, unfortunately for him, he does not have that luxury, seeing as he doesn't work in this building. So anyway. Then I went in there during this discussion. And I said, "OKAY. So when he calls at the end of the day, and *points* you're not here, and *points* YOU'RE not here, and [insert a couple of other people] aren't here, NOBODY OF CONSEQUENCE IS HERE, and he asks me ~WHO'S RUNNING THE PLACE?!~, what do you want me to say? No, seriously - I'm not even being a bitch starting a fight, I am HONESTLY ASKING what you want me to tell him." YEAH, THEY DIDN'T HAVE AN ANSWER. JUST LIKE I DIDN'T WHEN THIS ACTUALLY FUCKING HAPPENED TO ME. As a result, I was called an imbecile and told that I needed help and should find a new job. What, because no one else is around to do their jobs (or is purposely declining your calls when I try to put you through, because you're such an ass)? Really? UGH. So I have no idea what's going to happen with this. When I see him call, I guess I'm just going to pick up and say, "Hold please" and then shove him on the last two people in there who are still trying to tell me he's worthy of talking to. Maybe if they actually deal with him for once, they will change their minds and understand where the rest of the fucking office is coming from. I said I was sick of getting the brunt of it just because everyone else has the luxury of ignoring their phone when it rings.
02.) I left an hour early, and I started writing a book. I can't guarantee it will ever come to perfect fruition, but I realized today that I have a lot to say and offer. I know I have no "real" credentials, but I do have a fucking brain FULL of thoughts and maybe that's good enough. I got a beautiful email from century_fox and it made me want to write a book so badly. So I started. I wanted to be a writer when I was little, it was one of my choices, along with actress/entertainer/dancer, psychologist, forensic pathologist, or a lawyer. I have fully weeded out lawyer and forensic pathologist by now, which is a relief, I suppose. But yeah. It's not a novel, it's sort of autobiographical but mostly thoughts and philosophies on what it means to have a beautiful life. I have no idea where it's going to go, what I should include or what I shouldn't, but right now I have a little introduction, which admittedly is nothing, but I like it so far - it's about children vs adults, who "knows more", and why youth shouldn't be so easily dismissed.
03.) I go in to talk about that internship thing on that film tomorrow. I have no idea what this girl is telling them but I already feel needed there. I was originally going to do make-up/wardrobe type things, but then I was asked to redo their websites. So I have to meet with a guy on that. Then, I was told that other people want to interview me for art department coordinator or prop master now. These are probably over-glorified titles but I don't really care, I want them all the same. In all honesty, I'm just really excited to be there. So I ~interview~ tomorrow to see where I'd best fit. Plus, it's downtown, and for those of you who don't know, I fucking love downtown. When I go around that bend and see the skyline here, I physically feel myself relax somehow, even as the hustle and bustle increases the closer I get. I've, in the past, equated this to smoking. Turning that corner is my version of lighting up - not the taste or the smell or the bad air, but the calm buzz and sense of contentment that comes. That first perfect exhale after the nicotine starts to sink in. That's what the city feels like. Ahhh. Thrilled. I even get to sleep in.
04.) I GOT BRET MICHAELS TICKETS FOR FRIDAY. It is general admission so that means Molly & I are going FUCKING EARLY AS FUCK so we can snag a spot in front. I am tying myself up in knots trying to decide what to wear. I may post a photo-outfit-poll tomorrow night if I can't narrow it down by then. Apparently I have too many dresses that I never actually wear, since I never have real occasions to wear them, so I'm sure you can see the dilemma when I actually have an occasion. I am leaning towards my new black dress with lace straps that makes my boobs look awesome. AND THEN A FIERY RED COWBOY HAT AND PERHAPS A BANDANNA BECAUSE HE ALWAYS WEARS THAT. BUT, PROBLEM - CAN'T FIND MY HAT, SO. Speaking of dressing for concerts, my mom ordered a blonde wig last night to wear to Gaga. She's adorably excited, she kept insisting today that we go to a fabric store. "OH MY GOD, ARE YOU GONNA MAKE ME A COSTUME LIKE YOU USED TO WHEN I WAS LITTLE?!" I ask her. It depends on what I want and how much time she has when I decide, but she said yes, basically. I am excited.
05.) I... did laundry? I have no 5, sorry. I tried.
01.) Work today. I was told that I "have to" answer the phone when superfuckingasshole Ted calls (I can't just put him through to voicemail as I have been, as a preemptive strike against hostility and verbal abuse). And okay, I've been really fair about taking criticism there. They tell me something and even if I don't necessarily agree with it and EVEN IF I'M NOT THE ONE WHO FUCKED IT UP, I don't fight back - I have even apologized for other people's mistakes without ratting them out, it's just... whatever, basically. But when she told me this? That I had to talk to him? I said no. I actually stood up for it because it's like, no, he lost the privilege of being picked up when he MADE ME CRY. He's made Jane cry. He's such a dick to everyone that NOBODY WANTS TO TALK TO HIM. NOBODY. He is incredibly verbally abusive and has created a hostile work environment. We've all taken to putting him straight to the CEO's voicemail when we see him show up on the caller ID. And I was told by my supervisor that I have to answer the phone for him, I can't just put him through anymore. I fought her on it, but then mail came so she walked away. Next time I saw her, I asked her why we can't just give him the CEO's direct line - there is no reason he needs to call the actual office ever again. "Have we tried this route?" I asked her. She said she'd go talk to Bob, which was nice because it meant she was taking me seriously. Later, I saw her in with both of the ~big guys~, saying this Ted thing was "a real problem", and she told an anecdote about how she threw one of her employees out of her restaurant because he grabbed a coworker's arm. So my question is, why is verbal abuse so tolerable. I'm sure if the fucker WERE here, he'd have NO problem grabbing my arm. But, unfortunately for him, he does not have that luxury, seeing as he doesn't work in this building. So anyway. Then I went in there during this discussion. And I said, "OKAY. So when he calls at the end of the day, and *points* you're not here, and *points* YOU'RE not here, and [insert a couple of other people] aren't here, NOBODY OF CONSEQUENCE IS HERE, and he asks me ~WHO'S RUNNING THE PLACE?!~, what do you want me to say? No, seriously - I'm not even being a bitch starting a fight, I am HONESTLY ASKING what you want me to tell him." YEAH, THEY DIDN'T HAVE AN ANSWER. JUST LIKE I DIDN'T WHEN THIS ACTUALLY FUCKING HAPPENED TO ME. As a result, I was called an imbecile and told that I needed help and should find a new job. What, because no one else is around to do their jobs (or is purposely declining your calls when I try to put you through, because you're such an ass)? Really? UGH. So I have no idea what's going to happen with this. When I see him call, I guess I'm just going to pick up and say, "Hold please" and then shove him on the last two people in there who are still trying to tell me he's worthy of talking to. Maybe if they actually deal with him for once, they will change their minds and understand where the rest of the fucking office is coming from. I said I was sick of getting the brunt of it just because everyone else has the luxury of ignoring their phone when it rings.
02.) I left an hour early, and I started writing a book. I can't guarantee it will ever come to perfect fruition, but I realized today that I have a lot to say and offer. I know I have no "real" credentials, but I do have a fucking brain FULL of thoughts and maybe that's good enough. I got a beautiful email from century_fox and it made me want to write a book so badly. So I started. I wanted to be a writer when I was little, it was one of my choices, along with actress/entertainer/dancer, psychologist, forensic pathologist, or a lawyer. I have fully weeded out lawyer and forensic pathologist by now, which is a relief, I suppose. But yeah. It's not a novel, it's sort of autobiographical but mostly thoughts and philosophies on what it means to have a beautiful life. I have no idea where it's going to go, what I should include or what I shouldn't, but right now I have a little introduction, which admittedly is nothing, but I like it so far - it's about children vs adults, who "knows more", and why youth shouldn't be so easily dismissed.
03.) I go in to talk about that internship thing on that film tomorrow. I have no idea what this girl is telling them but I already feel needed there. I was originally going to do make-up/wardrobe type things, but then I was asked to redo their websites. So I have to meet with a guy on that. Then, I was told that other people want to interview me for art department coordinator or prop master now. These are probably over-glorified titles but I don't really care, I want them all the same. In all honesty, I'm just really excited to be there. So I ~interview~ tomorrow to see where I'd best fit. Plus, it's downtown, and for those of you who don't know, I fucking love downtown. When I go around that bend and see the skyline here, I physically feel myself relax somehow, even as the hustle and bustle increases the closer I get. I've, in the past, equated this to smoking. Turning that corner is my version of lighting up - not the taste or the smell or the bad air, but the calm buzz and sense of contentment that comes. That first perfect exhale after the nicotine starts to sink in. That's what the city feels like. Ahhh. Thrilled. I even get to sleep in.
04.) I GOT BRET MICHAELS TICKETS FOR FRIDAY. It is general admission so that means Molly & I are going FUCKING EARLY AS FUCK so we can snag a spot in front. I am tying myself up in knots trying to decide what to wear. I may post a photo-outfit-poll tomorrow night if I can't narrow it down by then. Apparently I have too many dresses that I never actually wear, since I never have real occasions to wear them, so I'm sure you can see the dilemma when I actually have an occasion. I am leaning towards my new black dress with lace straps that makes my boobs look awesome. AND THEN A FIERY RED COWBOY HAT AND PERHAPS A BANDANNA BECAUSE HE ALWAYS WEARS THAT. BUT, PROBLEM - CAN'T FIND MY HAT, SO. Speaking of dressing for concerts, my mom ordered a blonde wig last night to wear to Gaga. She's adorably excited, she kept insisting today that we go to a fabric store. "OH MY GOD, ARE YOU GONNA MAKE ME A COSTUME LIKE YOU USED TO WHEN I WAS LITTLE?!" I ask her. It depends on what I want and how much time she has when I decide, but she said yes, basically. I am excited.
05.) I... did laundry? I have no 5, sorry. I tried.