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Boss Bastard & Butt Boogie

Issue Date: Monday, Jun. 16, 2003

I can feel the bile beginning to rise.

All last week the hand boss was out on vacation. I made it my solemn vow to have; in my grubby little hands, before his return; all of the materials and files needed to complete the Convention Program. I called the advertisers, I begged, I pleaded, I cajoled up to the very last minute.

I had alerted the advertisers over a month out that their ads would need to be in by the 12th, which was Thursday. How many was I missing come Thursday at 5 pm? Oh, gee. Can you say FIVE ADS!?

Thank goodness I built in the extra day for more begging, pleading, and cajoling.

I got most of the ads, except for two mealy ones that were held up by weather. FedEx and UPS were both running a day late due to the storms we had last week. But I would have them by today!

I was convinced that today, Ye Ole Monday, would be a good day.

I updated my spreadsheet, I put all the ads in the “ad copy basket” and I saved all electronic files to a CD. I gave all of this to hand boss with a barely concealed flourish.

Me: Everything is ready for you to edit the Program as you requested.

Hand Boss: We’ll see.

I am NOT kidding you people. This miserable person just got back from a week of vacation. Cannot he be any more pleasant?

He proceeded to go into his office, curse every file he opened and then make snide remarks on how those weren’t the file types he wanted. He stomped out of his office and told me that we have 4 problems so far. Files were missing for W, X, Y and Z. I followed him back into his office, pointed to the “ad copy basket” and told them that the ads he was looking for were in there. I pulled them out. He snatched them away, threw them on his desk and muttered something.

On my spreadsheet there was a list of which files were in the basket, which files were on the disc and which files were already inserted into the magazine via the desktop publishing software we use.

This afternoon he lost his shit over not having the correct information to list about the seminars for the convention. That information was forwarded to him when I first received it.

Co-worker C noticed my distress and took me to lunch.

When we returned he called her in his office so he could make loud, rude, mean comments about me.

Immature much? This is my BOSS people!

Thank goodness I was on the phone and only heard a portion of the rude comments or I would have walked out right then.

After he left for the day…

Me: So, what did he say?

Co-worker C: You know I don’t listen to him when he is that kind of mood. He’s just mean.

What I heard… “Dear God, it was so awful I was bleeding from the ears before I could escape from his office!”

When I started this post early this morning, I had no idea I was in for this kind of Monday. I was just nervous about the “We’ll see” bullshit comment.

Co-worker C: What are you thinking?

Me: That it is sad when I have taken so much flack from him that I just don’t care anymore.

Co-worker C: What do you mean?

Me: I will still try and do 120% for the board of directors, for my vendors and my advertisers, but where he [read: hand boss] is concerned, I just don’t care anymore. I think I need to stop trying to please him because it seems to be down right impossible.

Sad huh?

I know that there are little issues that make people want to scream on a normal basis in any job. Here’s the rub. I have a theory that it seems more pronounced because there are only three of us in this office. Call me kooky.

You: Kooky.

Me: Oh… all right.

Do to an entry from Mimi Smartypants, I have had the song Boogie In Your Butt stuck in my head for the past month. It only rears its ugly head at very inopportune moments like at church, dinner with my parents, my nephew’s birthday party and business meetings.

I decided to exorcise that demon this weekend. Saturday night on Mister’s computer I tracked down the song and downloaded it. I waited with baited breath as it slowly made it’s way through cyberspace to Mister’s hard drive.

When it was completed…. I pushed play reverently and waited for the song to begin.

Oh Lawd! I had not heard the song in over a decade but I knew almost every word. That does not bode well for what my memory and gray matter are being used for. I was dancing around in Mister’s office when he turned the corner.

Note to Self: Singing about anything, including boogie, in your butt is not very ladylike.


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To understand this dear reward (above) at all, you must hie thee on and read gatsby’s grape ape entry and my comments.

And because of said comments he sent me my very own dream turtle in an email titled wee gift with these words attached, “my purple monkey is booked solid so i ordered you a tangerine turtle. hope he proves helpful.”

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