Enough
The whole firm knows about the new office that's opening soon. Everyone has questions.
Who's going?Can I go?
Are you going?
What are you going to doooooo?
Are you going to take the boxes of files in the empty office where Labor & Employment used to be?
What will you do about office supplies?
Can you work remotely?
Do you have a car?
Are you going to commute?
Do they need a secretary? Remember that copy room girl who left when she had her baby? She'd kill to work out there.
Are they taking a word processor?
Will you come into the city for the breakfasts and other parties?When you go, can I have Tuna's office/your chair?
I am not exaggerating when I say that two to three times each day people are coming up to me to talk and ask me about it. Really, I'm sure you can understand why I don't want to talk about this. It's bad enough I have to talk to my roommate and my family about it (no offense guys). Thank you, but I don't need suggestions, I don't need links to jobs, I don't need reminders to look for a new job (I just accidentally typed 'jew job' - perhaps on a deep level I've been uncomfortable working in such a Christian-centric place all this time?) and I don't want to be reminded forty times a day that the clock is ticking.
Nobody EVER needs to point out anything negative about me or my life to me. Please trust me when I assure you I've thought of it. Whatever it is, I've thought of it and worried about it already. Way ahead of you. Now you don't have to wonder what I've been doing awake since 2:30 a.m. - you know. I've been staring into my pillow thinking about how exactly being homeless will work for me now that I don't own a car anymore. Really, if you've thought something negative of me, I've already taken that thought to the tenth power at a minimum.
Why Cat Lady came up to me THREE TIMES yesterday to talk about The Move is beyond me. Especially since the very first time I looked her straight in the eye and said, "I really don't know, and can't talk about it anymore." Cat Lady coming to talk to you is nothing you want to experience. She's the one who had the gastric-bypass surgery. When a person has that, they're supposed to change their dietary habits. Significantly. Cat Lady didn't. Which is why she has all sorts of OTC drugs spread along her desk to treat various digestive issues. I'm not sure if that's why her breath is awful, but it is. Of course she's prone to standing too close to people when she talks with them.
Have I ever really discussed Cat Lady here? Maybe I haven't. Maybe since I won't be dealing with her soon, I should. Cat Lady is an older woman who rents a house and has a male roommate, and some cats, one of whom is named Romeo (LEL came up with the name). Cat Lady thinks everything about herself is fascinating, and doesn't notice when people's eyes glaze over as she blabs on and on about her cat's antics. Cat Lady is President of some Secretary Association or some shit like that.
Cat Lady says very harsh things about people. She told me that the receptionist is very jealous of her because she had a decades-long relationship with a man years ago. That another secretary wears black suits all the time because she thinks it makes her look thin, but it doesn't.
She likes to be viewed as an authority on ... well, anything. Cat Lady presents her opinions as facts. She thinks any joke she makes is incredibly witty, and anything she says is deep. Cat Lady's favorite game is to walk by my ponywall and push any papers up there over the edge, so they fall onto my desk. Her second favorite game is to walk by and tell me, "Clean up that mess!" She thinks she's hilarious. I think a swift smack to the back of her head with a frying pan would make me feel very good.
I would love to sit down (with many feet between us so I didn't pass out from her halitosis) and psychoanalyze Cat Lady. People whose self-confidence crosses the line to arrogance always fascinate me. How do they get that way? Do they realize they're like that? Are they happy being that way? Do they look down on anyone around them who isn't that way? Would they aim to raise their children to be that way?
But that won't happen. Instead, I'm putting out the word here, because this is the only place I feel I can do it. Don't call me, I'll call you. You know I have a big mouth. You know I won't be able to resist blabbing to the world once I have a new job. I know your asking is your way of showing you care. And I truly appreciate your caring, more than I can express. But I am a green and yogurty person, who feels your asking as pressure on me. And as I said above, I put tons of that on myself already.
Who's going?Can I go?
Are you going?
What are you going to doooooo?
Are you going to take the boxes of files in the empty office where Labor & Employment used to be?
What will you do about office supplies?
Can you work remotely?
Do you have a car?
Are you going to commute?
Do they need a secretary? Remember that copy room girl who left when she had her baby? She'd kill to work out there.
Are they taking a word processor?
Will you come into the city for the breakfasts and other parties?When you go, can I have Tuna's office/your chair?
I am not exaggerating when I say that two to three times each day people are coming up to me to talk and ask me about it. Really, I'm sure you can understand why I don't want to talk about this. It's bad enough I have to talk to my roommate and my family about it (no offense guys). Thank you, but I don't need suggestions, I don't need links to jobs, I don't need reminders to look for a new job (I just accidentally typed 'jew job' - perhaps on a deep level I've been uncomfortable working in such a Christian-centric place all this time?) and I don't want to be reminded forty times a day that the clock is ticking.
Nobody EVER needs to point out anything negative about me or my life to me. Please trust me when I assure you I've thought of it. Whatever it is, I've thought of it and worried about it already. Way ahead of you. Now you don't have to wonder what I've been doing awake since 2:30 a.m. - you know. I've been staring into my pillow thinking about how exactly being homeless will work for me now that I don't own a car anymore. Really, if you've thought something negative of me, I've already taken that thought to the tenth power at a minimum.
Why Cat Lady came up to me THREE TIMES yesterday to talk about The Move is beyond me. Especially since the very first time I looked her straight in the eye and said, "I really don't know, and can't talk about it anymore." Cat Lady coming to talk to you is nothing you want to experience. She's the one who had the gastric-bypass surgery. When a person has that, they're supposed to change their dietary habits. Significantly. Cat Lady didn't. Which is why she has all sorts of OTC drugs spread along her desk to treat various digestive issues. I'm not sure if that's why her breath is awful, but it is. Of course she's prone to standing too close to people when she talks with them.
Have I ever really discussed Cat Lady here? Maybe I haven't. Maybe since I won't be dealing with her soon, I should. Cat Lady is an older woman who rents a house and has a male roommate, and some cats, one of whom is named Romeo (LEL came up with the name). Cat Lady thinks everything about herself is fascinating, and doesn't notice when people's eyes glaze over as she blabs on and on about her cat's antics. Cat Lady is President of some Secretary Association or some shit like that.
Cat Lady says very harsh things about people. She told me that the receptionist is very jealous of her because she had a decades-long relationship with a man years ago. That another secretary wears black suits all the time because she thinks it makes her look thin, but it doesn't.
She likes to be viewed as an authority on ... well, anything. Cat Lady presents her opinions as facts. She thinks any joke she makes is incredibly witty, and anything she says is deep. Cat Lady's favorite game is to walk by my ponywall and push any papers up there over the edge, so they fall onto my desk. Her second favorite game is to walk by and tell me, "Clean up that mess!" She thinks she's hilarious. I think a swift smack to the back of her head with a frying pan would make me feel very good.
I would love to sit down (with many feet between us so I didn't pass out from her halitosis) and psychoanalyze Cat Lady. People whose self-confidence crosses the line to arrogance always fascinate me. How do they get that way? Do they realize they're like that? Are they happy being that way? Do they look down on anyone around them who isn't that way? Would they aim to raise their children to be that way?
But that won't happen. Instead, I'm putting out the word here, because this is the only place I feel I can do it. Don't call me, I'll call you. You know I have a big mouth. You know I won't be able to resist blabbing to the world once I have a new job. I know your asking is your way of showing you care. And I truly appreciate your caring, more than I can express. But I am a green and yogurty person, who feels your asking as pressure on me. And as I said above, I put tons of that on myself already.
Labels: Cat Lady, Commute, Pounding the pavement
posted by Green at 4/25/2007 11:39:00 AM
2 Comments:
I was laid off several years ago. Unfortunately, at the time a lot of other accountants with more experience than I had were also looking for work. I spent five months sending out dozens of resumes and got maybe five phone calls and no job offers.
I know all that stuff about "networking" and how important letting people know you're looking is to getting leads on jobs, but I didn't say anything to anyone but my boyfriend and mom. I did not want the insensitive questions or phony sympathy. But Mom told Dad who told someone else... Yadda yadda yadda, I spent five months getting THE LEAST FUCKING HELPFUL ADVICE EVER every time I saw anyone I knew.
The #1 was from my incredibly lazy sermonizing future father-in-law, who told me, "It's been a couple months. You need to just get a job already."
Why, thank you! That is so very helpful. I think I'll just add that to the cover letters I've been sending out. "Please hire me. My boyfriend's father says I've been sitting on my ass long enough and should get a job already before we end up completely screwed financially." Why didn't I think of THAT when I cried myself to sleep convinced we would lose our house because I wasn't worth employing?
So, ahem, to wrap it up - you have my sympathy. Hang in there.
This advice is fantastic, I noticed too late xD
"Walk on the right, pass on the left"
My guess is that Cat Lady has no idea she's like that and she lives happily thinking she's right. LOL
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