Obviously, When I Rock, You Should Be On Your Knees.
Usually, I go down to Toronto in June to visit my family and celebrate my sister's birthday, at the same time. We've done it for the past two years (five for my sister since she's been here longer), so it's sort of become our thing. Unfortunately, this year, due to complications and family shenanigans, I'm not able to go down until August. Which sucks because it means waiting so much longer to see my family, but there's nothing I can do about it. Oh, for the chance to rule the world!
Anyway, we finally nail down the days that work for the whole family, so huzzah for that. Then I inform my boss, almost two months early so he has plenty of time to prepare for it, that I will be gone for the first two weeks of August.
And this is where it all goes horribly, horribly wrong. Because his response was: "...you can't take any time off in August because X is taking the whole month off to go to Portugal for his vacation, and we're going to be short-staffed! Even I'm not taking time off in August!"
And my response was: "Exactly how is this any of my concern?"
Hey, I'm sorry that someone's going to be gone for a whole month in August, but that is not my fucking problem because a) there was no memo of any kind saying that vacations in August were reserved exclusively for X, and b) my vacation plans were up in the air until two p.m. this afternoon. I had no idea when I was going to be able to take vacation until today, and I'm not going to be faulted for that.
He argued that we were supposed to give him our vacation days back in February, which made me laugh long and loud because he just booked his vacation time two days ago. NICE TRY, ASSHAT. When I told you what days I was taking off, that was not a fucking request, that was me telling you that I will not be in for the first two weeks of August. I don't care if you don't pay me for them, I'm still going because I only get to see my family three times a year, and it sucks, and the last time I had to do that, I was in goddamn boarding school, so if you think I'm giving up my vacation time for your peace of mind, THINK AGAIN.
He mumbled something about talking to the owner of the company about it, which was big of him, considering that I'm going to be gone for ten days, regardless of what the answer is.
A zombie wandered into work today, looking a little lost and confused, and attacked everyone in his path. Poor fucker starved to death. It's tragic, really.
As well, my jPod* is mostly Sweatshop Union and Metallica, and the first song he played was the Bee Gees' Grease. I r happee.
*jimmyPod, named after James Marsters and James Hetfield. Y'know, if you were wondering.
Anyway, we finally nail down the days that work for the whole family, so huzzah for that. Then I inform my boss, almost two months early so he has plenty of time to prepare for it, that I will be gone for the first two weeks of August.
And this is where it all goes horribly, horribly wrong. Because his response was: "...you can't take any time off in August because X is taking the whole month off to go to Portugal for his vacation, and we're going to be short-staffed! Even I'm not taking time off in August!"
And my response was: "Exactly how is this any of my concern?"
Hey, I'm sorry that someone's going to be gone for a whole month in August, but that is not my fucking problem because a) there was no memo of any kind saying that vacations in August were reserved exclusively for X, and b) my vacation plans were up in the air until two p.m. this afternoon. I had no idea when I was going to be able to take vacation until today, and I'm not going to be faulted for that.
He argued that we were supposed to give him our vacation days back in February, which made me laugh long and loud because he just booked his vacation time two days ago. NICE TRY, ASSHAT. When I told you what days I was taking off, that was not a fucking request, that was me telling you that I will not be in for the first two weeks of August. I don't care if you don't pay me for them, I'm still going because I only get to see my family three times a year, and it sucks, and the last time I had to do that, I was in goddamn boarding school, so if you think I'm giving up my vacation time for your peace of mind, THINK AGAIN.
He mumbled something about talking to the owner of the company about it, which was big of him, considering that I'm going to be gone for ten days, regardless of what the answer is.
A zombie wandered into work today, looking a little lost and confused, and attacked everyone in his path. Poor fucker starved to death. It's tragic, really.
As well, my jPod* is mostly Sweatshop Union and Metallica, and the first song he played was the Bee Gees' Grease. I r happee.
*jimmyPod, named after James Marsters and James Hetfield. Y'know, if you were wondering.