When I opened this screen at 7:22 this morning (note, i get into work at 7:00am), i really had intended to write something with a clearly defined opinion in regards to something someone wouldn't care about.
However, disaster struck at 7:24. I was sitting in my cubicle, minding my own business when suddenly every gosiperista in my building, not just my floor mind you, decided to descend on me in quick succession of each other.
This person is doing this, and that person is doing that....the usual gossip from those that don't take even the direct hints that you're busy and don't have time to chit chat, but rather follow you around as you run copies and file paperwork and build binders still jabbering at you.
Then i heard one bit of gossip that was more of a vent that actually made me stop.
We have a certain upper manager whom has rubbed SEVERAL people the wrong way, myself included. I've never been quite certain what i did that deserved a perpetual sneer in my driection every time i pass her in the halls, but i get the sneer, attitude,unreasonable demands, and a distinct lack of please and thank you from her. This has led me to be less than cordial with her. With her being upper managment, i don't want to directly piss her off. But never fear, have ways to get even and then some without ever getting myself into trouble what-so-ever.
But if there's one thing in working life i've learned, it's this:
There are three types of people that you never want a hostile working relationship with
1) Custodians: How bad does your three days worth of garbage smell on the fifth day?
2) The IT department: ....office life revolves around computers and technology...enough said.
3) Admins: you want how many copies of a very critical presentation that, woops, a few crutial pages can go missing from? You wantted catering for this all day meeting...sorry, you didn't give me authorization. You need this by when? yeah, i'll fit that in somewhere between my nap and manicure.
And speaking for several co-workers: this woman is so full of herself, we're not sure how she gets her big head through her office door.
Some highlights of her first year here at my work:
*a SCREAMING hissy fit in the front parking lot because the closest parking spots to the door aren't reserved for upper management
*demanding to have entirely new furniture in her office instead of the perfectly good desk and bookshelves in there
*telling an employee to take his work home with him when he was already meeting deadlines.
*telling said employee who was offered a better job at another company, that he was stupid and not worth the money they were offering him for the position.
And now the icing on the cake? (and almost as disgusting as birthday cake at a 5 year old party with a bunch of snot nosed kids)
I find out today, that rather than doing like management even higher than her, and refilling the coffee urns when they run out, just how far she will go to show her dissrespect for her lower co-workers.
Our coffee urs are stainless steel and work on syphon power. When they run out of liquid they make this very noticable noise like trying to get the last dregs out of a cup full of ice, via a straw.
Twice in a row (two days) she has found the urns to be empty after trying them....flipped open the lid and poured the coffee she just got back into the urn and leaves.
Not a big deal IF she ever washed that cup. Which most of us have yet to see.
I'm sorry, but that is disgusting. And i'm mad now. Other people drink from that, myself included on occasion. And who the hell is she to have coffee making beneath her as she clearly demonstrates. If her manager can do it, she can. If I EVER catch her doing that she's going to have and imovable wall blocking her way out of the breakroom and a tounge lashing like she's never had before. HR has been notified now of her attitude noted by myself and others, this situation of pouring the coffee back in has been documented, and i am so angry that i'm sorely tempted to basically camp out at the breakroom tomorrow morning with empty urns and watch and see what happens.
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