measi's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Moving Chaos, part Three I wrote this last night on the commuter train on the way back to Boston Freewheel writing--- On days like today, I just have to wonder how the heck I survive the chaos. My coworkers--not all of them, but a large enough handful-- drive me up the fucking wall sometimes. Maybe it's just that I don't comprehend why someone in their thirties or forties needs a babysitter. I'd be insulted to resort to being treated that way. One woman in my office, C., in particular seems to need this. Most of the times that she comes by my cubicle, she starts sentences with "Melissa, I know you're really busy, but...." Having one of those "but..." statements, particularly with her, is always a huge warning flag. C. is scheduled to move Thursday. She's moving into an office (which as a contract employee, she currently does not qualify for, I might add), that she'll share with one other person. From the moment she heard about this, she was whining. Everything about it has been "unacceptable" -- the space, the setup, etc. And all I want to say to this woman is "How do you have the gall to complain about getting an office when you're not even a full-time employee?" Hell, *I* don't even qualify for a friggin' office for crying out loud. What the HELL is her problem? During the first round of her complaints, I gave her an ultimatum-- either she could stay in the cubicle she had, or she could move into the office. Either way, she would be sharing her space, and either way, she was going to accept the plusses and minuses of the space as-is. She wanted to try to "cubicle shop," and I refused. She had two options--move or stay. She chose the office. So despite the fact that she made the choice, her inability to accept change is being thrown on me, and I'm sick of it. Grrrrr...... 10:38 a.m. - 12 July 2001 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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