» Bastard Colleagues

Mad office boss
I remember my first 'proper job' manager with a small glow inside. I think it's called hatred...

It started innocently enough with me writing a newsletter for her to proof read. She found some things she didn't like, I fixed them. Then the second proof she found more, and then more on the third, fourth and fifth proof. By the time we got to the eleventh proof I was now amending back changes she had wanted the first time.

I went to have a chat about how silly this was, and she promptly burst into tears and ran out of the office.

Everyone else looked at me like I had just threatened to kill her or something.

The next day she bounces in, all sweetness and light and forgives me (erm forgives me? what did I do??) and takes me out to lunch. We spend a happy afternoon building houses for our newly acquired kids meal toys.

The next day, I walk into the office with a note on my desk, saying 'see me in my office', from my manager. In I wander and am promptly ripped into for wasting the afternoon before and doing no work.

Now as you can imagine I'm a bit confused, but soldier on to make up the work from the day before.

Now, rinse and repeating the above scenario everyday for three months you can see how it became a burning hatred for the individual.

If I failed to be happy with her on 'good' days I felt like I was kicking a puppy about the room and everyone else thought I was evil.

On other days when I had strips torn off they thought I was crap at my job.

I was trapped there as it was a university placement and couldn't leave without failing the course.

I did however get a glowing report and promise of a job there if ever I wanted it (about the same amount as gargling razor blades).

It might have been a slightly less glowing report if she had discovered how many mistakes I didn't bother to correct in stuff we went out. If she hadn't spotted them in eleven stages of proof reading, why should I? My favourite being the headline about a 'car ant boat show'.

A petty revenge but it somehow seemed appropriate.
(Thu 24th Jan 2008, 12:59, More)

» Tightwads

Graduation tightness - my mum 1
The day of my first exam in my final year my mum and dad split up with no warning.

We'd found out my mum hadn't been paying any bills, my dad had a couple of days to leave the house that was being repossessed, etc.

Fast foward a few weeks and it was graduation day and being the first person from my family to go to uni my nan (mum's mum)was a mandatory invite which meant inviting both my mum and my dad.

They didn't talk to each other obviously, I was glad they were there and stumped up the £40 per person charge as my mum said she'd pay me back later.

After the graduation all my friends around me are getting gifts from their familys and going for posh meals.

We go to Weatherspoons as they were doing 2 for 1 meals.

Mid meal, my mum stands up and says how proud of me she is and how proud my grandad would have been had he been around still and pulls an envelope out of her bag and passes it to me. Then hugs me and tells me it's one of the happiest days of her life to see me graduate.

I open the envelope... it's a piece of paper with 'Well done' written on it and some clip art people stuck around the edge she knocked up in 10 minutes in word.

I never saw the £40pp ticket money, never got the £4k back and I paid for the meal in Weatherspoons as no one else had any cash.

So on one of the happiest days of her life, she didn't pay for tickets, food or even spend more than a token effort to celebrate. Tight cow.

The irony of all this is that all the time I was at uni she moaned like hell cos I wasn't doing a proper job (I worked part time) and I was only paying £200 a month rent from the £250 I earnt a month. And that she had stolen over £5,000 from me when she scarpered... and opened a catalogue account in my name and ran up £800 bill she didn't pay.
(Fri 24th Oct 2008, 11:19, More)

» Rubbish Towns

Preemptive strike
I live in a small town, near a busy transport hub. Ramble, ramble, collection of strange people here and it's always hot.

Blah, blah, local pub is rough, I was once in there for a quiet drink when someone pulls a weapon and cuts off another guys arm.

More waffle followed by a shooting,though who shot first is often debated.

I live in Mos Eisley, scum and villany.

Thought I'd save some time now.
(Thu 29th Oct 2009, 12:00, More)

» Hypocrisy

Work evaluations
I had the 'pleasure' of my yearly work evaluation the other day.

I don't like to blow my own trumpet (well I would if I could reach) but I've worked really hard and put in much more than my lowly grade requires.

So what do I get told?
- Not a key member of my team (I'm in a team of two, if I'm not key there the other person must work miracles)
- Unhelpful to others (I have been recommended several times this year for 'going the extra mile')
- Lack of professionalism in the office.

All made up and based on me having a spat with the appraiser a few weeks ago for which she hadn't forgiven me. The double standards:

- She has no knowledge of what either myself or team mate do as she's never worked with the internet, yet manages two people who's sole focus is running the company site and systems. She's less key and more of a lock.
- She is so massively disliked by everyone else that they deliberately book meetings for days when she isn't in the London (4/5 a week) so they don't have to put up with her aggressive behaviour.
- It's true that I'm not as professional in the office as I could be. But what makes this even funnier is that after complaining about my unfair appraisal she now refuses to talk to me, blanks me in the office and sends 1 line emails whenever she wants anything. If thats not unprofessional I don't know what is.

I hate my job, if anyone wants an ace online marketeer in the southampton region please pay me to come work for you. Failing that if anyone wants to be paid to kill this annoying bearded woman (please shave it off) get in touch too.

Length - about an inch of whispy down across the whole chin.
(Thu 19th Feb 2009, 12:40, More)

» Tightwads

Food - my mum 2
Before the split (see previous post) my mum was a legend for not allowing us to eat much (it must be the reason i'm so fat now from not being able to stop myself).

School lunch was jam sandwichs and orange squash every day... for 8 years. When ever I complained that I don't even like jam or orange squash, I got smacked for making it up just 'to eat cheese and meat and other posh food'.

This wasn't even branded food, we were talking Tesco value bread, jam and squash. Total cost 50p for the whole of all 3 let alone spreadout across a number of lunches.

As I got older I used to have to cook my own meals. One day I remember being hauled into the kitchen to talk about my latest crime.

I had dared, yes dared to use a whole tin of Tesco value beans (price 6p or so) for me and my 3 brothers meal. I should have used 3/5 of the tin saving the rest for my mum and dad's meal.

After that I made sure I never used more than a half tin between the 3 of us to ensure not getting a similar telling off.

Once I was older and financially independent I suddenly realised what a tight cow she was and every time I made food left the correct money for what I ate on the side.

Rereading this, I think I may have been abused as a child. No wonder I was so thin...
(Fri 24th Oct 2008, 11:28, More)