Work= Work Stuff = Venting~

supposebly???
Supposebly!?!
SUPPOSEBLY!

Earlier this year with the impending move of my roommate, and the soon to follow rent check I had to cover all by my lonesome, I asked my bosses for more hours. Actually I didn't ask rather I applied for a couple other second jobs. When of course these interested employers called by current employers a little shit hit the fan. See I am their bitch, and as such they prefer to keep me to themselves. Hence the gift of working one job with enough hours to cover the bills. Perfect.

Except being the nanny 40+ hours wasn't quite practical. With the arrival of baby L any day now Mom was going to be home more, leaving me again with few options. Now, lucky for all of us Mr & Mrs Boss, happen to have a commercial plumbing business with Mrs. Boss's Father Boss. Lucky for me, that's where I was able to recoup the additional 30 hours and work a few 10-20 with the kids. $$$=bills paid=happy me!

Okay, so fast forward about 11 months and that's where we find ourselves. The past 11 months has seen one office manager quit, and one get fired, moving me from material coordinator to payroll administrator to my now official title of office manager. And I get the whole office to myself. I can do the job and do it well and this is without much training. Most of it was a troubleshooting nightmare of many trials and errors with some guessing thrown in there for good measure. Now don't let the college dropout stigma fool you, I'm one bright chick. So most of this was no problem for me, sure I faced some challenges, but got it all figured out.

The problem happens to come when the trio of bosses forgets that I now run the office, and still sees me as the college girl who "babysits" the kids. (For the millionth time there is a big difference in babysitter and nanny!) When they act so chagrined, so shocked and chagrined when I do something well--not to mention the fact they don't know what chagrined means. When they are so impressed by a simple letter I can write, or an email that is so professional they nearly collapse out of their chairs. It's not that I am Miss Office; it's what they make up for in money, they lack in intelligence (so hurtful today, and yet so honest).

**Warning: Major Vent Session to Commence**

When I discover that a letter or email has been sent without knowledge--or proofing--the headache begins. I have no problem checking emails, letters and please, please, please let me check proposals and legal documents. LET ME DO MY JOB! PLEASE?! I'll correct the grammar. I'll correct the spelling. I know when you type their you really meant there or when you say are you really mean our and I'll fix it for you. Because it's embarrassing to read it later knowing these are the people responsible in giving us another job, these are people we want to be able to bargain with, some times over great deals of money, and yet when they hear you say "SUPPOSEBLY?!" all I can do is cringe.

Supposedly-- Pronunciation[suh-poh-zid-lee]

What really gets me is that most of the time shit hits the fan it's because of a simple mistake which is so easy to blame on "the babysitter now running the office." Like sure blame the girl doing payroll when some body's check is wrong. Yeah, because silly me, I figure when I get the time cards, they're right. I figure I don't need to call and double check with you. Because really what I like to do is go through the time sheets and just erase shit. Yeah, that's right, it's my own little passive-aggressive secret behavior. Or not. How about this if you don't write the correct time on the time sheets then your guys won't get paid correctly. You forget to write down mileage, again, the guys don't get their money. And I know for a fact that after enough people complain Mr. S will start double checking his time sheets. And that's my own little passive-aggressive behavior.

Sure, bitch about the girl who didn't pay the water bill when the water gets shut off. Yeah, because it's fun for me too when the water goes missing from the faucet and I can't pee because the little water problem creates a little toilet flushing problem as well. Or maybe there wasn't any money to pay the damn water bill and I had no choice.

*Venting Over*

Yes, I do in fact love my job. I do like my bosses (for the most part, really I consider T to be one of my good friends). But c'mon guys let's learn to use spell check. Let's learn to double check our time sheets. And for that, I'll be extra nice...maybe make some cookies or something equally fabulous!