I am discovering why I've never been unemployed.
Yes, I constantly post from work these days and yes I tend to be cranky when I do it, but hey, I'm posting ain't I?? Give a Sass a break.
So last week I was all up and down about being able to cover for a day off but having to mentally and physically prepare for 10 hr days.
I got the overtime.
I wore comfortable shoes.
I rationed my coffee to avoid the caffeine crash that infamously has me nodding off at my desk.
I'm not kidding.
I was left with New Girl to handle the end of the week AND end of the month rush with little more than a 'yep, I'm out' from either of the offending parties.
And today we knew that New Girl had ANOTHER funeral in her family to attend (shes taken 3 full days off in three weeks of working here to deal with all the death in her circle - I burn incense in my office to keep her tainted aura out of my space).
We knew this since last week.
In fact, we were all so pleased that it would only be Monday she was taking off instead of three days at the end of last week!!
So how is it that it comes to the end of my work day, 4:30pm, and I start to log out and go tell Mousy I'm ready to go and its her turn to sit at my desk and she looks over at the seat thats been empty ALL DAY and looks back at me and looks at Ms. Status Quo's desk and then back at me and says "oh, shes not here today and she just left. oh. I have a meeting tonight. ::blank stare up at me from her chair:: um. oh. um. can you stay until at least 5pm?"
Its quarter to six.
My bladder is not happy.
My ripped nylons are creating a nice suction cup looking mark on my upper left thigh as well as cutting me in half at about the diaphram (when when when will they make 'lowrider' nylons that don't need to be tucked into the bra to stay put???).
I'm coming down off the sugar buzz that was blissfully gained by the Prailenes and Cream Baskin Robins birthday cake we had in the office today.
I am ready to go ralph all the sugary blob that is the contents of my stomach because apparently ice cream and a bottle of water do NOT equal dinner.
All of this could have been avoided, in my 20/20 hindsight, if someone had a CALENDAR that they LOOKED AT so an email could have been sent to avoid having to actually look at someone while she asked them to rearrange their lives to accomodate the office after just scrambling our schedules three times this month. Maybe even just stopping by my desk fresh from the bathroom after her daily bag of popcorn to mention that someone will be out of the office and wait for me to OFFER the solution that she can't seem to muster the confidence to spit out.
So I'm here, rackin up the hours, thrilled that my take home pay this hour is more than my normal hourly wage, and only mildly passing out from sheer exhaustion.
It was a big sister filled, money blowing, driving to the beach, eating too much, watching movies and painting toe nails and laughing at drunk roomies weekend and I was TOTALLY ready to up and walk out ON TIME today since I got almost six hours of sleep last night and my hair still looks windblown from the beach walk since I didn't get to wash it this morning but apparently there is a severe case of FUCK NO I'M STILL HERE LIKE A GOOD LITTLE MAKING-UP-FOR-PAST-LATE-DAYS GIRL that I need a vaccine for. If I could have known ahead of time this would happen, I would have put the gym bag in the car. Or asked to come in at 9am. Or just showed up at 9am to get the upper hand in this game of SCREW THE BITCH WHO WANTS A CAREER AND NOT A JOB.
I feel better.
I like getting here early. Its the staying until closing thats icken my wow.
Time to speed run across town, change into the gym garb, take the movies back, get the groomers number off the door (its right next to BB and the AWSOME thai place Sis and I found Saturday) (in hopes that I'll get 5 minutes tomorrow or any time this week to schedule anything for my personal life), and then go shake my ass like I've been sitting on it for 10 hours and HOPE AND PRAY AND SHAKE SOME MORE that it will bubble back out in time for tomorrows endurance test.
Bring on the RedBull.