Sometimes, I think people I work with just want to see how far they can push before I have an aneurysm and drop dead on the spot -- that it would be entertaining for them to watch my head explode.
At my office, for example, the toilet seat is always up. You can put post-it notes on it. You could probably nail it shut. You will still walk in the next day and find it Up.
At my office, you will always find rolls of toilet paper at the front desk. Is it a gender thing? Do boys have a thing against Kleenex? Why would anyone drag rolls of toilet paper from room to room to blow their nose on (all the while refusing to admit they have allergies)? It's disgusting.
I work in a Rainman kind of office.
Every answer is a monosyllable. And not very many of those. It's pretty much limited to "what?" and "why?" If it's a full sentence, it usually begins with, "what you need to do is..."
All I really want to hear when I ask if something's been done is "ma'am, yes Ma'am."
For two weeks, I haven't had email. More accurately, I have had HALF of my email. Half comes in and goes out. The other half doesn't. I never know which half, until someone calls up, very angry, and wants to know why I didn't respond to their urgent need for my attention. At which point, the new super-deluxe 3G Blackberry Bold promptly drops their call.
This is the kind of thing I delegate. One of my best qualities is that I know my limitations, and one of those limitations is that I am tech-illiterate.
So here's the explanation I overheard being relayed to the hardware/ISP people on the phone yesterday: "No, I'M not having any problems. She SAYS she's not getting some of her email..." And implicit in the entire discussion and tone I overheard was the word, "allllllegedly...." as if I was somehow hallucinating the 40 people who painstakingly explained the "mailer-daemon" notices they were getting back, just to be difficult. The angry callers would have EMAILED the mailer-daemons to me for forwarding to the IT guys.... but, well, you see the flaw in that plan. (Apparently, a flaw that's only obvious to me.)
Today I asked about the status of a print order that should have gone out Friday. An order that HAS to go in the mail MONDAY. That's going to be difficult when the Printer hasn't even seen the file yet. They're not telepathic. The monosyllabic answers to that question, in order were, "what?" and "why?" I guess, why did I want to know?
I'm not known for running a very tight ship. I don't care when people come in, and I don't care when they leave. There's a finite amount of work to get done in any given week and as long as it gets done, I'm pretty easy to please.
And the answer to the word "why?" is BECAUSE I SAID SO. It's not a debate.
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