(no subject)
Well, it's official. I hate my job.
This morning the owner tells me to call Sopchak because our electrician was outside of his house trying to get in to run the wiring. A little strange cuz we sent Jimmy out there last Friday. But... ::shrug::
So I get a confused customer on the phone with Graham yelling at me in the background, "Who the bloody hell did you call? Who do you have on the phone there?" (he's british). So I calmly back out of the conversation and get off the phone. And Graham starts yelling at me that he told me to call Odom. Well, now, no... he didn't. And he just kept disputing and yelling and arg. So I said ok, now stop yelling so I can call Odom. "Why the hell didn't you just call him in the first place?" *sigh* Arg. Blegh.
And right now, he is yelling at me because the blowers hadn't been ordered. I told him that I passed the message to Tanya last Friday, when he told me to. Tanya walked in a few minutes ago and he just found out that they had not been ordered. So, now it's "Breanne. Did you or did you not just tell me that the blowers had been ordered?"
"No. I said that I passed the message to Tanya and assumed that they had been."
"Well they haven't. Liaise people, liaise. When I say I want something done I want the two of you to do it. Why aren't they ordered, Breanne? I asked you to do it, and now it isn't done. Why the hell not?"
It hasn't been done because his wifey didn't do it. All I was to do was tell Tanya when she got into the office on Friday to place a new purchase order for 6 blowers. And she was informed. I seriously fail to see how the rest even has anything to do with me at all.
It all comes back to me because that makes it easier. I get blamed for the chemical orders getting mucked up, when it's Scott's fault that I don't even get notified about them. I get blamed that the inventory numbers are off when I don't even have any way of tracking what equipment comes in or out.
Bullshit. It's all a load of bullshit.
Sam, I rather like your idea of key-bouncing off the forehead. Nice prospect there.
Except, suckage of all suckage... I spent almost $300 on a corset this weekend. And guilt will probably keep me here for some time.
This morning the owner tells me to call Sopchak because our electrician was outside of his house trying to get in to run the wiring. A little strange cuz we sent Jimmy out there last Friday. But... ::shrug::
So I get a confused customer on the phone with Graham yelling at me in the background, "Who the bloody hell did you call? Who do you have on the phone there?" (he's british). So I calmly back out of the conversation and get off the phone. And Graham starts yelling at me that he told me to call Odom. Well, now, no... he didn't. And he just kept disputing and yelling and arg. So I said ok, now stop yelling so I can call Odom. "Why the hell didn't you just call him in the first place?" *sigh* Arg. Blegh.
And right now, he is yelling at me because the blowers hadn't been ordered. I told him that I passed the message to Tanya last Friday, when he told me to. Tanya walked in a few minutes ago and he just found out that they had not been ordered. So, now it's "Breanne. Did you or did you not just tell me that the blowers had been ordered?"
"No. I said that I passed the message to Tanya and assumed that they had been."
"Well they haven't. Liaise people, liaise. When I say I want something done I want the two of you to do it. Why aren't they ordered, Breanne? I asked you to do it, and now it isn't done. Why the hell not?"
It hasn't been done because his wifey didn't do it. All I was to do was tell Tanya when she got into the office on Friday to place a new purchase order for 6 blowers. And she was informed. I seriously fail to see how the rest even has anything to do with me at all.
It all comes back to me because that makes it easier. I get blamed for the chemical orders getting mucked up, when it's Scott's fault that I don't even get notified about them. I get blamed that the inventory numbers are off when I don't even have any way of tracking what equipment comes in or out.
Bullshit. It's all a load of bullshit.
Sam, I rather like your idea of key-bouncing off the forehead. Nice prospect there.
Except, suckage of all suckage... I spent almost $300 on a corset this weekend. And guilt will probably keep me here for some time.