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Sweet Imaginary Office Romance

16 Jul

Ah, the secret boyfriend.  So secret he doesn’t even know about it.  Is it cheating if you have a real boyfriend and a secret boyfriend at the same time?  No lines crossed – except for when you stare into his dreamy green eyes a second too long.

The Cyclist joined our team about a month ago.  When I met him during the interview he reminded me so much of Monsieur le Baguette (MLB).  Two primary differences, The Cyclist looked smashing in a pin stripe suit with suspenders (swoon with me now) and I’ve never seen MLB in a suit; and MLB has dreamy blue green eyes where The Cyclist has dreamy green eyes.  They’re both divorced.  They both have kids the same age.  They seem to have a similar sense of humor, not 100% sure of The Cyclist’s since he and I haven’t gone out and gotten drunk – yet.

Every morning he has to walk by my office and he’ll pop in to chat for a few minutes.  We were the last 2 in the office on Friday afternoon, and talk turned to happy hour and where we like to go drinking.  I had mentioned I was heading out but wasn’t feeling it since MLB and I had gone out the night before and I had woken up still drunk.  “Morning sex is the best,” he said to me.  “Ugh.  I was too hungover to do anything this morning.” I replied.  “I don’t want to know,” he responded.

Yes he fucking does.

So whatever, we went off our separate ways after agreeing to go out and grab a drink sometime.

I went home to an empty house as MLB had gone off for a boys’ weekend which was basically a 2 day bender.  Yesterday morning when we were texting he told me he was planning on leaving early and wanted to come and stay with me.  Um, yes.  We had a nice night.  I rocked it as the little spoon, he hogged the bed, he was adorable.  Usually, when he sleeps over during the week he gets up when I do and feeds Mr. Bojangles then makes me coffee.  Think the bender got to him as he was dead to the world.  When I woke him up to tell him I was leaving he tried to pull me back into bed with him.  Tempting, but dating him is expensive and I gotta pay my bills.

Sitting at my desk this morning and the emails start popping through from The Cyclist.  Questions about how the weekend went, plans for the week, etc.  A secret romance is blossoming.

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(Work) Wedding Bells

30 May

Everybody, I have an exciting announcement: yours truly is getting married!!  That’s right!  For the first time in about 3 years I’m going to have myself a work husband.  So excited!!

There’s something so special about the relationship between work spouses.  There’s a fine balance between friendship, intimacy (in a mostly non-sexual way), and professionalism (kind of).  Your work spouse is the one who you know can keep a secret, who you give pep talks to when they’re feeling blue and who’ll do the same for you, the one who you trouble shoot with, and celebrate with when one of you has a win.  They’re the ones you have secret exchanges with in meetings.  Kind of like a work bestie – only with way more flirting.

In the past I had Disney and I had Folgers.  I even had a boss with dreamy blue eyes who I was promoted above and then I made him sit next to me and we would distract each other from work for ages and now when I see him I want to climb in his lap and tell him to hold me.  Actually, I wanted to do those things when we worked together.  Alas, he was married.  He still is.  God damn it.

My new work husband, or maybe he’s a secret work husband since he doesn’t know about it yet, has just been hired.  He wears pin striped suits with suspenders.  He is funny and charming.  He is sharp.  We’re going to hit it off and soon we’ll be off at lunch excluding the other leader who has a shitty attitude about life.  I can’t even wait!

He reminds me of Monsieur le Baguette a little bit.  Only a bit more conservative and with dimples.

A real life boyfriend and a real life secret work husband.  Both with dreamy eyes and charming personalities.  What could possibly go wrong?

Life is good, my friends.

Don’t cry for me, Argentina

29 May

Aw, the joys of coming back to work from a 3 day weekend.  Have you ever noticed there’s still 5 days of work that has to get done and you end up cramming it into 4?  Or is that just me?  Listen, don’t get me wrong, I’d totally take the long weekend over having to sit in my cell office with horrible lighting.

This afternoon I had a one on one with one of my direct reports.  She proceeded to tell me how overwhelmed she was by all of the work she had to do.  Maybe I’m crazy, but 3 projects really isn’t that big of a workload.  Her pace is about as fast as a snail’s and she was used to being able to get away with that until I came around.  I’ve got some expectations on pace: get your shit done.  Stop shopping on line and talking to your friends all of the time and do your god damned job.

She burst into tears in my office while she cried about how she had so much to do at work and at home and she wasn’t getting down time.  I handed her a box of tissues and controlled my eye rolling as best as I could.  On the inside I was shouting, “stop crying and do your work.”  On the outside I just blinked and nodded.

This work is not that hard.  Really, it’s not.  And if you’ve been sitting on something for 2 weeks because you don’t know how to do it and the deadline is coming – guess what?  I’m not going to move the deadline.  That shit is on you to figure it out or ask question.  Ignoring something isn’t going to go away.  It’s like an STD, you can’t wish crabs away.  You also can’t wish your work or deadlines away.

So put on your big girl skirt, stop crying, and get shit done.

Learn and grow

17 May

Many years ago, when I was a tiny fetus, I made the decision to pursue a job in HR.  I was attracted to the glamour and the incredible pay.  Oh wait, wrong field.  When asked why HR, I’ll tell people I really enjoy helping others and want to serve as a resource.  That I’m invested in their professional growth and I’m intrigued by the team dynamics in an organization. LOLZ!  No, but really, one of the greatest things about working in HR is all the juicy gossip you get to hear.  There are some jacked up things people decide to do at work.  Some are legitimately bad and/or illegal, and some leave you wondering why people are so dumb.

Whatever the stories are, I always enjoy them.  Even when they’re a bit cringe worthy.  My favorite part about all of this is I’m never the one who has to discipline any of the employees because I don’t do employee relations.  If someone comes to me, I merely refer them to the appropriate party.  And then I spend time talking to the people in employee relations so I can get the scoop.

I’ve got some favorites which have remained with me over the years:

  • There were the two new hires who were fired because they were caught in a supply closet, both had their pants around their ankles.
  • Then there’s the story of how someone walked into a dark training room only to find his married trainer bent over the front desk while her married direct report nailed her from behind.
  • How about the one time a senior manager called to tell me he’d been at an after work event with his team and one of his direct reports got HAMMERED and then proceeded to proposition him.  She thought she was whispering in his ear, but she was talking at full volume – in front of her entire team.  Oh, and both she and her manager were married.
  • There’s also the staff member who falsified medical documents showing he was having surgery and would need to be out of the office, and then was dumb enough to post Facebook pictures of his cruise to the Bahamas.
  • I love the one about the sales guy who got a sweet promotion and was promptly fired when he turned in his work laptop – the laptop he used to watch porn while he was traveling.
  • Then there’s the story of the woman who repeatedly made out in the work elevator and in a conference room with someone 9 years her junior who had a girlfriend.  Wait.  Shit.  That was me.

Through those stories I’ve learned key lessons such as lock the door if you are going to engage in sexy time at work; don’t get drunk at work functions; if you’re going to proposition your boss at work, make sure your entire team isn’t seated in earshot; fraud is bad; if you’re going to watch porn while you travel for work make sure you use a personal device.  I’ve learned and grown so much.

It’s like this job was made for me – stupid decisions and gossip.  The only thing missing is booze.

I hate everything about you

1 Mar

I have a pretty high tolerance for stupidity and douche baggery, but there comes a time when if you hit the threshold I will dive across the table and cut you.  At least in my mind I will.

There’s a woman who I work with who I’m constantly cutting with my imaginary knife.  A very sharp imaginary knife.  Believe it or not, I have kind of an important job.  People listen to me at work.  I actually run an entire office.  I know, I know, it’s crazy to think that yours truly is capable of doing something other than fucking up at dating.  I even get to manage some pretty high profile projects.  Sometimes, there are idiots on those project teams.  This year I was “rewarded” with a frumpy ass woman who is inflexible and annoying.  She’s running the communications stream of the project and when she opens her mouth or sends me an email I feel my blood start to boil.

Monday there was a big announcement about the project to the entire division.  She fucked it up.  Twice.  Twice.  How do you fuck up an announcement twice on the same day?  I don’t know. You’ll have to ask her what her strategy was.  Other than being an imbecile it requires some pretty major stupidity to fuck up an announcement TWICE IN ONE FUCKING DAY!

The big project is kicking off later this month and it includes a huge kick off event for all of our division.  At that event there will be slides while the big mucky muck presenters are speaking.  Slides that she’s responsible for handling, because she is in COMMUNICATIONS.  We get the slides from the speakers and it’s her FUCKING JOB to put the damn deck thing together.  You’d figure someone in COMMUNICATIONS would know how to do that.  Let me paint the picture.  You are a lowly weasel at the bottom of the hierarchy – the most junior member of a big working team, a position that you’ve been given as a stretch opportunity.  You’re asking the Managing Director of a division, plus 2 of his direct reports – who are executives – to put together slides.  And you give them 48 hours.  Listen, I’m not sure where you’ve worked before, but let me go ahead and tell you that’s not how it works.  You don’t give the HEAD OF THE DIVISION 2 days for slides because you want everything in advance.  The way it works is you wait until he has someone on his staff put them together and then you scramble at the last minute to get it done.

This afternoon in the meeting she found out that she wouldn’t have the slides by tomorrow.  Which is hilarious because the Managing Director just found out today that we would need his slides.  She went off on how she didn’t know if our vendor would be able to put them together in time, and oh, by the way, she would not be able to work the weekend before the event.  In my mind, I dove across the table and I cut her.  Seriously?  Are you kidding me.

So, I got pissed.  And I do not often get pissed at work.  So I said to her, “What’s your back up plan?” with an angry tone, in front of the entire team.  She didn’t have one.  And, according to her, no one on the COMMUNICATIONS TEAM knows how to put a power point slide deck together.  Um, what?  Excuse me?  Are you kidding me?  No one on a COMMUNICATIONS TEAM knows how to put together a slide deck?  You have got to be kidding me.  So she went on about something else and I halted the meeting and said to everyone, “I have a really hard time accepting that between this entire team we’re not able to put together a slide deck.”

I hope she falls down the stairs, twists her ankle, and can never come back to work.

I hate all her frumpy clothes almost as much as I hate her face.

Last I checked, you weren’t my boss

8 Feb

Know what’s “amazing”? And by “amazing” I mean “worthy of me punching someone in the mouth.” Being told how to do my job by someone who barely knows how to do their own job.  I call that, “being an asshole.”

I’m good at my job.  People enjoy my work.  Big mucky muck leaders call me to help them figure out how to do their jobs.  So when someone who does internal communications starts questioning what I’m doing, it doesn’t make me so happy.  This isn’t someone who is a go getter, role model, high performer.  This is someone in COMMUNICATIONS who sends out emails to the entire organization with grammatical errors, incorrect attachments, and broken links.  So you’ll excuse me if I tell him to go and suck on a big bag of dicks.

Shut your pie hole and learn how to write a email.  How about that for some advice?

In unrelated news, I think I’m PMSing.

Step Up

7 Dec

Part of the reason my ass is so fat is that I suffer from an affliction that many Americans suffer from: laziness.  Why walk 3 blocks when you can drive?  Why get out of the car at the Starbucks when you can sit in your car an extra 20 minutes to order your venti whole milk extra whip hot cocoa latte frappuccino latte?  Why climb 2 fights of stairs when there’s an elevator?  Why cook when you can order fried chicken and have it delivered via Uber Eats?

I’m busy.  I have things to do.  I have cookies to eat.  And my Netflix queue isn’t going to watch itself. I don’t have time for fitness, and health, and that shit.

I live a mile from work and can’t be bothered to walk.  Instead I drive everyday, and park in the garage like my coworkers.  Walk up the 5 flights of stairs from the garage to the lobby?  Ha!  No way.  Fuck that for a joke.  I don’t bother entertaining walking from the lobby up the 3 flights of steps to my office.  In the elevator I go with all the other overweight folks who should cut back on carbs and try to get in 10,000 steps instead of just 5,000.  My big step intake is walking from the garage elevator to the office elevator.  62 steps.  Round trip.

So, you can imagine my dismay when the garage elevator broke yesterday.  I was riding up with a coworker when we started hearing lots of grinding.  The kind of grinding you don’t ever want to hear on an elevator.  20 minutes later a message was sent to all staff that the elevator was closed for repairs.  Closed for weeks until the needed part was ordered and arrived.

Great.  That means walking up 5 flights of stairs every morning.  Better not forget anything in my car because I’m not going back down to get it.

Even better?  Today our other elevator broke.  And we have no idea when that one is going to get repaired because we can’t get a fucking call back from our maintenance office.

Awesome.  Really fucking great.  8 fucking flights of stairs every god damned morning.

To add insult to injury you need to swipe in to use access our floor from the stairwell.  And guess whose office is immediately next to the stairwell.  Yup.  That would be mine.  I’ve already opened the door eleventy twelve times because the receptionist is too busy gabbing on the fucking phone.  I already got an earful from the Fed Ex dude that had to run up and down the stairs because he had too much to be able to carry in one load.

On the bright side I guess it means that I can shove a few extra Christmas cookies down my throat.