Moan-a-tron

The Moan-o-Meter is dangerously high today, we’re edging towards critical mass, a meltdown of disproportionate size…. Take cover people!!

I think I have had to listen to Kirstie’s complaints, bitching and whines today on average every 6.8 minutes. I think if you broke it down, worked out the average and compared it to weekly statistics we’d be well above average. The huffing is increasing dramatically, the swearing is quire shocking at times – a complete potty mouth – and everyone (and I mean everyone) is on the blacklist. We can all bugger off and leave her alone, stop badgering her, stop calling her, stop emailing her and frankly piss off out of her personal space.

It’s lapsed into some kind of repetitive routine. It’ll start with a big old sigh to my left or a curse or a slamming down of the phone and some muttering. To start with I’d be sympathetic and maybe ask what was wrong or give some kind of supportive comment. I soon learnt my lesson. After I stopped asking for fear of the tirade of ranting I would get back she simply started offering up the rant anyway, without question. So I turn in my seat, look worried or concerned for her, nod as she rants and then try to offer up some advice. I’m now running low on advice fuel so sometimes it’s just a shrug of the shoulders or I’ll say something like “ah they’re all a bunch of bastards” just to try and make her feel a bit better.

The thing is she brings a lot of this work and stress on to herself. People have the most ridiculous requests or demands and I can understand why she is livid about them but then I discover they are asking because at the end of the day she’ll cave and do them. Digging your own grave there girl.

Exhibit A: Kirstie receives an email from one of the BIM (I’ve changed the name for legal reasons….bet you can’t guess…) people who she has had to arrange a squillion travel arrangements for to fly around the world preaching the new system to the poor sods in the other offices. She’s had enough bother doing this because they all appear to be 12 years old and stamping their feet about flying business class or having a vegan meal or taking their 500 family members with them. So now this email is from some retarded employee saying she left her camera on the plane and can Kirstie please look into it? Er you got a phone luv? Got some travel insurance? Good, good. So you lost the camera so how about you ring up and claim for it? JTFC. My response to this email would have been along the lines of “No.” So there is a lot of ranting, she reminds me once again of the 27 other things she is trying to juggle at the moment, why would she have time to look for mislaid cameras?? Etc etc. Good point. “Tell her to take a hike” say I! But does she? No, instead she makes enquires about the lost camera.

There’s a word tattooed on her head right now and it’s ‘MUG’.

Since then she’d had other such ridiculous requests and more and more she seems incapable of saying ‘no’ to things. But the bitching and whining will continue as will the “I need to speak to someone about all of this it’s just ridiculous, I can’t balance all of this….this is 2 people’s job….FFS why are people bothering me with this kind of thing….do they think I sit here with my thumb up my arse all day?”

But does she do anything about it? Does she complain to the right people? Does she heck.

Yesterday she was here from 7.30am until 8.45pm. On Saturday she was in from 10am until 7.30pm. I get to hear all about this. I’ve now got to the point where I won’t say “have a good weekend” because I know I’ll get some rolled eyes and a “yeah right…”

I might go and say something soon to Moon Monkey just to stop the whining. Or maybe put it forward that I am under a lot of pressure to deal with Kirstie’s er pressure. Yeah, it’s all about me! Sod it I’ll just move desks again….