Damn Demure
Shan called it this morning, and damn it, she called it right.
I’d checked in with her to say hello around lunchtime, and she remarked that she had a funny feeling that, like when I went on vacation to Pittsburgh, my useless supervisor Demure would be on the loose, wondering where I was, as I had a pseudo-personal day yesterday and spent most of today at the print shop.
And sure as shit, almost an hour ago, Shan called to tell me that, indeed, Demure approached her to ask where I might be. Shan was annoyed because she was late for a meeting and was scrambling to get her own stuff together. But we wondered, can’t my supervisor keep track of my work schedule, given that I am out of the office two days every month around this time? Although Shan is more than happy that Demure goes to her and not to Cruise Director to ask where I am, she brings up a good point. At any rate, Shan said, “If you’re worried about her, why don’t you call her on her cell phone?”
Demure said no, she’d just wait to see if I showed up at work tomorrow.
When I supervised Incoherent Twit, I gave her a half hour before I found her ass on the days that she was AWOL. Not that I could have cared whether Twit lived or died, but if I didn’t know where she was, I found out fast.
To help me, Shan offered that even though yesterday was my “birthday buck” day, I was in the office for a few hours. And even though Shan knew perfectly well where I was, she suggested that perhaps I was tending to newspaper-printing issues, just like I was doing yesterday. Demure had assumed that I had dealt with the printing while she was out the week before, so she called in the hounds for the day.
You know, Demure has a schedule of what my deadlines and out-of-office activities include. And today is clearly marked “press day” on my yearly schedule.
So, I was bitter but I left a VM for Demure, saying that the paper had just gotten finished and that it was senseless for me to come into the office for an hour, so I was knocking off a bit early. Besides, I mentioned, I was in during my vacation time yesterday, so that should more than make up for it. I called under the guise of checking in to see if anything was going on, but she never picks up her phone. *whew*
I’m certain that Demure is going to start micromanaging me more than ever after this. Shawn said maybe I should just be nice and polite and check in more frequently, even when I am in the office, just so they can feel like they’re doing their jobs. Fuck that — I cherish what little independence I have left, and I’ll be damned if I have to lick dick any more than I already have to. Demure is, unquestionably, threatened by me, because I officially have no need for her intervention — I imagine that she has to justify her job by reporting my activities to Cruise Director. She can, of course, be helpful to me — when I opt to go to her with questions instead of finding out the answers myself, but oftentimes, she’s the middleman who conveys info back and forth between the exec and me.
I am so tired of working for someone else. This is my year — I just know it. This is the year when I break free of ridiculous employers and their micro- and mismanagement. I never fail to come through with the paper, yet she’s always suspicious of what I’m doing and always wants to intervene under the guise of being helpful.
And for the record, I had e-mailed her as well as the exec last week to say that I wanted to take a personal day yesterday, because there was nothing for me to do at work until press day today. What part of that message didn’t she understand?!?!
Use.Less!!!