It’s been awhile.
The company has decided to sublet our suite so that means the occupants have to relocate. Moving on up from the 2nd floor to the 37th floor, and not happy about it. One step closer to management’s watchful eye. Crappy area with broken desks and high traffic moving past the cubicles. Sharing copy machines and pantries and bathrooms with strangers. Riding the elevator to the 37th floor, inducing ear popping and cab shaking. Steps away from the annoying business manager I deal with (and actively avoid) who goes on and on and on about the most mundane things. Sitting directly in front of the woman who needs to be on conference calls eight hours a day. Loudly.
I know, I sound like a spoiled brat. Sorry, but it’s hard to give up this little suite of heaven.
On the flip side, the 37th floor is temporary, for about a month. And the views are spectacular.
When I moved over here from 299 Park, I had nine boxes and various drafting paraphernalia. I got my box count down to three boxes and a snake plant going to 1285 AoA. When we found out we were moving, I took one file drawer a day (when I went in) and weeded out stuff I didn’t need. What broke my heart to throw away was all the hand drafted work I did 18-20 years ago before I had AutoCAD. There really was no use keeping those- the spaces I redesigned have been reworked dozens of times over the years. This bank is not the same bank I started with.
So I’m all packed up and waiting for them to disconnect me. I don’t want to start anything work related since I may have to stop suddenly. I’m a little angry and a little sad so F*CK YOU Friday has been resurrected.
- F*CK YOU to Utah’s friends. Only one of you showed up to help her move. Instead, the two old people (me and MR) and the string bean weakling (Zombiegirl) moved Utah and her boyfriend into their new apartment. Wth, where were all you strong, young friends? You come around when you want to use the beach house, but skip out on helping your friend. As KevKev said, we moved 40,000 of Utah’s boxes and yes, I felt it for a couple of days afterwards.
- And a small F*CK YOU to Utah and KevKev. You knew you were moving for weeks, yet you were still packing the day of the move. You had permission to move stuff in before you occupied the place, but did you regularly bring anything over each night? Nope. I heard the excuses, but really, you shouldn’t be relying on the 50+ year old people to lift all the heavy stuff and the 40,000 boxes you accumulated.
- F*CK YOU to the polished women in my office-you have the worst bathroom habits. You dress well, your clothes are expensive, you comport yourselves professionally, so clean up after yourselves! I’m a schlub and I make sure I don’t pee on the seat or leave soiled TP in the toilet. Gross.
- F*CK YOU to my internal thermostat. I know, I know, I’m at that age where I should be fanning myself because of my hot flashes, but I’m not getting hot flashes- I’m just either very cold or very hot. I put on a sweater when I’m cold and ten minutes later I’m sweating. I take off the sweater and ten minutes later I’m freezing again. Add that to the fact that I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in ages due to the furnace in my body.
- F*CK YOU to my HR department, my benefits department and Obamacare. I can’t go into it here, but I will say we got royally screwed and now I have to pay heavily for it.
- F*CK YOU to the guy in the other department we deal with. We created this procedure to make life easier for you and the businesses and to help with accountability and accuracy for us. You obviously don’t like change but suck it up- we’re doing everything we can (not me, the programming people) to accommodate you but you’re constantly whining like a little child. Your job is no more important than mine, do get down from that high horsie and deal with it.
- F*CK YOU car salespeople. I’m sure there are some non-slimy ones out there, but we haven’t found any yet.
I have more but the movers are here and I gotta go. Have a good weekend.