I Hate You All! (I.E. Work was hell today)
Every morning I get to work the loading docks, where I work, are trashed. People just throw crap all over the place as if it was a landfill. I come in and start picking stuff up and throwing crap away as I do EVERY FUCKING MORNING. What does J1 (Who seems to think that I'm a lazy, moronic, fool) say first thing when I go upstair? He asks, sarcastically, if I could puhleeaase take just a little time to tidy up the loading docks every now and then? He's tired of it looking like trash. I resist the urge to strangle him while screaming "I'M ONLY ON THE DOCKS FOUR HOURS OUT OF THE DAY AND I CLEAN EVERY DAY THAT I'M HERE!!! WHY THE FUCK DON'T YOU TELL ALL THE JACKASSES THAT YOU SEND DOWN AFTER I LEAVE NOT TO TRASH THE PLACE AND QUIT BLAMING ALL THIS SHIT ON ME!!!!!???"
J1 and I have something of a history. But enough of him for know, save to say that I just got to work and I'm already pissed off.
Later on:
J2 tells me that M needs decaf and espresso, so I run downstairs to get it and bring it to her. She tells me that she doesn't need decaf AND espresso, she needs decafinnated espresso! So I have to take those boxes back downstairs and get her coffee. On the way, V stops me to tell me she needs three different types of chicken, C says she needs mayonaise, A wants soy sauce, and he needs me to check if we have any whole chicken in the fridge downstairs.
I go get the soy sauce and mayo, V comes downstairs to see if I've gotten her chicken yet (I think to myself "Well, your down here now, why don't you get it?.") We go to the freezer together because I'm not sure what the boxes look like, she points out two of them, but can't find the third. I bring what I have upstairs.
M tells me that now she needs Irish Cream and Vanilla coffee. M2 wants four different types of cookies. V wants platters and says that the chicken she wants is in the big box we thought couldn't be the right one because it was so big.
I dash downstairs, spend ten minutes searching for the platters because they're in a box that says plates, grab the irish cream, but forget what the other flavor M wanted was, and I grab the chicken.
Bring this stuff upstairs, and ask M what the other flavor was. It's Vanilla, and where's her decaf espresso? M2 wants to know if I got her cookies.
Run back downstairs, grab decaf espresso and cookies, run back up.
M says she needs dried cranberries. I grimace. She apologizes, saying that she just found out. A asks if I remembered to check if there was any whole chicken downstairs.
I head back downstairs, and search through 15 boxes of various meats that were just delivered. The last one is whole chicken. I get the dried cranberries and bring them up to M. I tell A that there is whole chicken downstairs. He asks me to bring it upstairs. I ask him why he didn't tell me that the first time. He says he did. I say no he didn't, he specifiacally said to CHECK if there was any downstairs. He continues to deny it, but I just shrug it off and go get the chicken.
Maybe now you all know why I'm so fucking happy all the time.
J1 and I have something of a history. But enough of him for know, save to say that I just got to work and I'm already pissed off.
Later on:
J2 tells me that M needs decaf and espresso, so I run downstairs to get it and bring it to her. She tells me that she doesn't need decaf AND espresso, she needs decafinnated espresso! So I have to take those boxes back downstairs and get her coffee. On the way, V stops me to tell me she needs three different types of chicken, C says she needs mayonaise, A wants soy sauce, and he needs me to check if we have any whole chicken in the fridge downstairs.
I go get the soy sauce and mayo, V comes downstairs to see if I've gotten her chicken yet (I think to myself "Well, your down here now, why don't you get it?.") We go to the freezer together because I'm not sure what the boxes look like, she points out two of them, but can't find the third. I bring what I have upstairs.
M tells me that now she needs Irish Cream and Vanilla coffee. M2 wants four different types of cookies. V wants platters and says that the chicken she wants is in the big box we thought couldn't be the right one because it was so big.
I dash downstairs, spend ten minutes searching for the platters because they're in a box that says plates, grab the irish cream, but forget what the other flavor M wanted was, and I grab the chicken.
Bring this stuff upstairs, and ask M what the other flavor was. It's Vanilla, and where's her decaf espresso? M2 wants to know if I got her cookies.
Run back downstairs, grab decaf espresso and cookies, run back up.
M says she needs dried cranberries. I grimace. She apologizes, saying that she just found out. A asks if I remembered to check if there was any whole chicken downstairs.
I head back downstairs, and search through 15 boxes of various meats that were just delivered. The last one is whole chicken. I get the dried cranberries and bring them up to M. I tell A that there is whole chicken downstairs. He asks me to bring it upstairs. I ask him why he didn't tell me that the first time. He says he did. I say no he didn't, he specifiacally said to CHECK if there was any downstairs. He continues to deny it, but I just shrug it off and go get the chicken.
Maybe now you all know why I'm so fucking happy all the time.
posted by DyingBurningFighting at 12:09 PM
8 comments
