(no subject)
I am having unusual revelations tonight. It seems to me that the person I like the most who I work with is Joanne Kauffman, the scapegoat. Everyone always pins any blame on her for stuff that goes wrong around the kitchen, and frankly, its true most of the time, if exaggerated. Do I like her because I feel pity? I don't think so. If yes, then this is only a part of it. Maybe it's because she makes me feel good about my work in contrast to her lack of abilities. I doubt it. Here why I think: She doesn't care. She lives her life the way it suits her. From drinking coke for breakfast to living alone in a cold apartment away from men and husbands and the world.
I must bear in mind: this is the same woman who sold me a sharpie for a dollar which she bought for probably ten cents at office depot. However, she has no qualms about helping me through my day by doing bits and pieces of MY job that I'm not able to get to for whatever reason.
I hate these accusing women I work with. It's always the same complaining, one faction against another and everyone against poor Joanne; strong, independent Joanne. There can be only one explanation for this polarization of my coworkers: each person is frustrated with their own personal status there. It's so obvious: why do they not try to hide it? If I were them, I would be much more ashamed of my constant need to point fingers and scream names. Pam complains about Patsy, and Shirley complains about Kathy, Kathy about Kim, Kim about Joanne, everyone about Joanne. Dawn, bless her, never complains but if she spoke fluent English I'm sure she'd join some side--either the smoking, drinking, loud Spadorka (Sue Pam Dorothy Kathy), or the Southern, bluegrass, proselytizing, overweight Edpash (Edna Patsy Shirley). Joanne I have never heard complain. That's a lie. She complains every time I see her about her car, her money, her bad knee, her dying cat, her children, her past, her future, her present, and so on (And I listen because I care). But, I admire her immensely for not having the colloquial, brash, inter-coworker accusatory attitude.
If my job weren't so fragile I'd start complaining about the complaining.
I must bear in mind: this is the same woman who sold me a sharpie for a dollar which she bought for probably ten cents at office depot. However, she has no qualms about helping me through my day by doing bits and pieces of MY job that I'm not able to get to for whatever reason.
I hate these accusing women I work with. It's always the same complaining, one faction against another and everyone against poor Joanne; strong, independent Joanne. There can be only one explanation for this polarization of my coworkers: each person is frustrated with their own personal status there. It's so obvious: why do they not try to hide it? If I were them, I would be much more ashamed of my constant need to point fingers and scream names. Pam complains about Patsy, and Shirley complains about Kathy, Kathy about Kim, Kim about Joanne, everyone about Joanne. Dawn, bless her, never complains but if she spoke fluent English I'm sure she'd join some side--either the smoking, drinking, loud Spadorka (Sue Pam Dorothy Kathy), or the Southern, bluegrass, proselytizing, overweight Edpash (Edna Patsy Shirley). Joanne I have never heard complain. That's a lie. She complains every time I see her about her car, her money, her bad knee, her dying cat, her children, her past, her future, her present, and so on (And I listen because I care). But, I admire her immensely for not having the colloquial, brash, inter-coworker accusatory attitude.
If my job weren't so fragile I'd start complaining about the complaining.