I hate Monday
I am fucking livid right now.
(If you don’t want to hear what amounts to a one-sided, petty work rant, skip on to the next post and don’t click through.)
Boss has a meeting of the other PHBs today at 10am. I’m supposed to prepare some materials about this site redesign we’re doing for him to present when he speaks and review them with him at 9am today. Okay, fine. Work planned out.
When I go over some other stuff with him Friday afternoon, I clearly say that I don’t have the things done yet.
Fast-forward to this morning. He doesn’t show up until about 8:30. Just after he does, he says that the meeting has been moved up to 9, and that I’ll need to share with him what I’ve got in about ten minutes. Shit. I start furiously working to get what I was working on into the ready-to-present-to-other-PHBs format that I was expecting to be able to finesse for an hour.
No good. Boss comes by shortly thereafter to see what I’ve got, and clearly it is not what he was expecting. ”Vapor,” he calls it. ”We’re going to deal with this later,” he says – great! a friggin’ sword of Damocles! – and storms off to his meeting.
The thing is, I had it ready for him on schedule! Nine-zero-zero, and I’ve got stuff ready for him to use.
Or to make changes to.
Or to wear as a pirate hat.
Doesn’t matter now, and I know it won’t matter later, when Boss pulls me into his office for a closed-door “Kevin sucks” session. It will be irrelevant that he knew what timetable I was working on - just that he didn’t have time to review my work before presenting it. That I had the meeting moved up on me at the last minute will not be germane.
And I know I’m not without some culpability. I could’ve shown him my very-rough-draft work last week rather than delaying it ’til this morning. But god damn it, I fucking told him where I was at! And for him to treat me that way…
Fuck.
I hate Monday.
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