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2001-08-09 / 6:29 p.m. ~Happy Happy Joy Joy.......not~ (I have to say it again, I just LOVE my Windows default sound...."Robot" from the original "Lost in Space" television series saying "Warning, warning"! I hear it still, yes, every single time I add an entry and choose text for the .html name. Every time, I feel a little wave of joy, of immense happiness. Okay, I think it's funny, and most appropriate. Visit WavCentral.com for your own groovy .wav files!) Ah yes, today. Oh where to begin? How about with now? Well, my hands are hot, the veins bulging, typing is uncomfortable, I barely want to write this, today sucked. The boy who lives across the "hall"? from me, the breezeway, whatever, was just outside with a whole horde of his buds (this kid is popular), but it was cute the way they were all outside the apartment and he was inside with the door open, like maybe Mom wouldn't let them in. Good choice, Mom. I was all prepared to say, "How's it goin', boys?", but they ignored me. Fine. Really, I was going to talk to them, right outside my door. They were respectful, moved aside, but they don't care about me. Good. Well, well, well, three holes in the ground. To the meat. The crux. The main point of the day. We had a meeting at work. It's rare that we have a real meeting, one in which we get to ask questions about how to do our jobs, get answers and feel like we haven't wasted our time. Today's meeting touched on some of that fulfillment, but mainly it was about...........future Call Monitoring. That's right. It's a call center after all (to be sung to the tune of "It's a Small World After All")......hey, I've always said to myself, "Self, they should be listening to some of the bullshit these coworkers of mine are saying on these phone calls!", and I've always agreed with myself. But, is this the way? Yikes. And let's throw in an "OMIGOD" too. Because I don't like it. Nope, not happy at all. Yeah, I signed the little waiver, and yeah, I said, Hey, I don't care if you're telling me you won't listen to my personal calls too, I don't fucking believe you and I will buy myself a fucking cell phone if it comes to that. I will NOT let you hear my personal calls. Oh, we discussed and discussed, voices over voices, it was heated, a bit. It was ridiculous, really, and totally. Especially later when A. says she knows for a fact they've ALREADY been monitoring her calls, and yeah, D., the supervisor lets us hear one she's got recorded!!! Jesusfuckingchrist. So, sure, get us to sign the waiver now, right, and tell us the system will not be implemented for months, then amend that and say, well, maybe it will be ready next month, and then I realize that the Manager (M) is talking out of both sides of her mouth, again, and again, I think, Damn, she'd make a great politician! She is SO fucking good at lying. Sign the waiver now, why? So they, the Evil Outsourcing Company, can cover their asses. And I tell D., "Well, I smell a lawsuit, if you've already been monitoring - sure, sure, "testing" - and we hadn't signed waivers 'til today, and actually you never said a word about it 'til today (WHY?), then we should be able to file a lawsuit, right?", and she is very upset at this, very defensive, explains herself away and away and away, and I say, "This is giving me a HUGE headache, I feel sick" and walk away, and she is all of a sudden really caring, almost emotional.... "Oh, really, are you okay? You feel sick?", um, yeah, I say, "Yes, I sure do, I'm not feeling well, but I came to work, I come to work every day, and I don't always feel well, right, I don't feel well". I wasn't going to say, Oh, don't worry about it, this happens every month, it's called PMS, I get elevated body temps, sore throat, comingdownwithacold like symptoms. Overall nonspecific malaise accompanied by fever and intense irritability, and oh yes, a propensity for crying at things which otherwise wouldn't mean a whole lot. In fact, once firmly ensconced back at my cubicle, headphones on, heavenly Jeff Buckley in my ears (yeah, listened to it again today, ask any other fan, join the diaryring, I'm not the only one, oh, it's good, it's so good, just wait 'til I get the live CD in the mail - whoo hoo!), I had to hold back tears. Why? She seemed to care about my health. I used to like her a lot, used to talk to her all the time, now that she's my supervisor there's this gulf between us, a downright fucking chasm and she's one of "them", management. Anyway, so what. All I could think was I gotta get outta here, I gotta get outta here, but where do I go, what do I do? I can't handle a lateral move, I can't just up and quit, I need money. The Big Game Lottery is up to $43 million. Maybe I will just win that. Topic shift: The gals at work are all going out to dinner tonight. I declined, for a few reasons. One, no one participated in my little dining excursion to the Korean Barbecue place. Childish? Maybe. But it pissed me off, and yeah, I thought it's because I was the one to suggest that one. Two, I didn't care for the restaurant choices. There was a list, and they were all chain restaurants, all real generic stuff, some actually really expensive. No thanks. I have my own favorite restaurants, and a huge unwritten list of more I'd like to try. I don't need to go to some fried seafood joint, or a Japanese touristy chopsake steakhouse, or a run of the mill chicken and burgers place. Not that I'd totally refuse the food if it were in front of me, but it's not anything I'd choose. Three, no way am I going to see Linda and L. outside of work again. Nope, won't do it. I am forced to be near them, listen to them, see them, etc., on a daily basis, all day, five days a week, and last thing I want to do is sit with them at a meal. Pour hot wax on my feet instead. Or something else painful. Or, just let me stay home. But, know what? It was hilarious watching them all try to choose a place for two or three weeks! Hilarious!!! Oh, let's go HERE! Okay! No, wait, last minute, V. is back, V. is assertive, V. doesn't want to, V. wants to go HERE. Okay, let's get them to FAX us the menus. Okay, I know what I'm having, sure, this will be great! No, wait, V. wants to go HERE instead. Okay, let's get them to FAX us the menu......you get the picture. It was as if they'd never been out to a restaurant before. Where is it? How do we do this? Can you ride with me? I don't want to drive alone. What time? Oh, that's too early! Oh, that's no good, etc., etc., yada, yada, really, for weeks now. And they'd figure it out, cement it, seal it with a kiss, and then change it! Too funny. I saw four of them all lined up, waiting, sitting in the mailroom on my way out, and I just nodded and said "Good night". See, A., I said, "Good morning" and "Good night". Happy? One more topic shift and I'm Audi!: Broad shouldered hunk of boy worked his last day today. A. was all excited to tell me she'd met him finally, introduced herself, shook his hand hello and goodbye (she touched him twice!), he's real nice, off to college, or computer school, in Arkansas, and 20 years old. And, she agrees about the shoulders. Yeah......nice. She also agrees about forearms, has the same fetish I have for them. Hands, forearms, broad shoulders, masculine characteristics. We both agreed wholeheartedly that we are indeed heterosexual women in love with the masculine features of MEN! Yeah, baby. I am going to miss A. SO much when she leaves. When am I going to leave??????!!!!!!!!! *The Final Word*: One of my favorite diarists, one I read every day, and weekends too, one I really relate to for several reasons, has locked her diary and I have no clue why. It's killing me. I'd better write to her. If she unlocks, please read her: Francine. Cost of the War in Iraq
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