Friday, August 18, 2006

My job is killing me...

Here are some things I heard this week:

"Hey Bryan: I know I need to plug a printer into the wall, but I don't know how. Can you help me?"

"Hey, Bryan: I didn't really fix anything today, I just went out and made a bunch more work for us. See you tomorrow when I'll do it again."

"Hey, Bryan: I don't want to do my job, but I know you'll do it for me and I'll still get paid, so I'll just stay home. By the way, I'm on vacation next week."

"Hey, Bryan: Can I have this?"

"Hey, Bryan: Can you tell the police I work here?"

"Hey, Bryan: It's asking for my password. Do you know what it is?"

(over the phone) "Hey, Bryan: Do you know where I am? Cause I think I might be lost." Tip from Bryan: If you think you're lost, you're lost.

"Hey, Bryan: Good news! Your raise this year won't even cover the extra money you're spending on gasoline to get here. You only really got a raise this year because the minimum salary for your made-up title went up."

"Hey Bryan: You know that data we used to have?"

(again over the phone) "Hey, Bryan: Should there be a dead rat in this thing?"

"Hey, Bryan: Is that really the arch?" Yes, it's really the arch. "It looks so different." You think?

"Hey, Bryan: You're doing a great job!"

OK, so it's not all negative, but not the least bit balanced, either. It hasn't gotten better in seven years. Tomorrow I have to take a trip cross-country on three patched tires because no one cares enough about my safety to get me one day off in the last month to get a new set of tires, which is totally at conflict with the demand that I also do their job, but of course when you make one set of bad decisions, others follow. I need a new place to live, but they don't care about that either.

I'm aging in dog years.