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Wednesday, March 22nd, 2006 10:14 am
the state of Jenn the Great, Dictator of Courtesy (and various celebrations)
Flowergate (tm ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
thefouthvine) has--don't even ask me how this has happened, I don't know--*exploded*.
Everyone has an opinion. People who have no opinion on the *weather* have an opinion. They have told me so. Repeatedly.
People, I am not Miss Social Director at work, but suddenly, my cubicle is Grand Freaking Central Station for the opinions. All the opinions. Opinions on situations demanding flowers, situations that don't, cake responsibilites, cake ordering, plate and cup ordering, more flower situations, desk versus the gravesite, card logistics, long term sick leave strategy, who is in the hospital, whose girlfriend lives five hours away and the guy still commutes to work here every day and how many sick and or/hospitalized mothers does he *have*, what constitutes close family members, and those darned managers and their crazy, crazy ways.
*leans back in uncomfortable chair*
In one corner, we have My Committee--and when they did become rabid defenders of the common man and fiscal solvency anyway?--who we will dub the Revolutionaries. Every hour or so, one of them finds a reason to drop by my office and spend twenty minutes discussing the situation and condemning The Man. No, not kidding.
Corner Two, the Managers, who apparently had a *meeting about this* on Monday. No. Really. They met to discuss flower protocols. I am lost on words. I'd like to dub them The Crazy. But I probably won't, because with my luck, I'll say it during a meeting and wow, unemployment, good for writing, not so much for regular laptop payments. Group Three is the various members of the office who feel the need to almost take a side and sometimes spread weird and unfounded gossip--or in the case of the guy living with his girlfriend, not so unfounded--and making it more indecipherable with every retelling. Then.
Well, then there's me.
If this falls out like I'm pretty sure it will, the entire situation will be blamed on me for sending flowers the first time to a woman who entered the hospital in an emergency due to abdominal bleeding by internet instead of convening a meeting on the spot and taking an officewide vote on how to respond to the situation. See, this is what happens when I take unilateral, leaderly action! Unilateral, leaderly action demanded by *my* manager and agreed on by my committee. My next item of business is to declare my cubicle an independent nation and negotiate for ambassadors while I hold the committee funds hostage.
I'm sorry. This is the most fun I have ever had watching crazy people. Oh *wow*. So Dilbert is actually *real*. Who knew?
I don't think I've ever loved life more.
I need a dictator icon. To show my unilateral self demanding cake, not bread, and ordering flowers in defiance of all the laws of god and man.
thefouthvine) has--don't even ask me how this has happened, I don't know--*exploded*.Everyone has an opinion. People who have no opinion on the *weather* have an opinion. They have told me so. Repeatedly.
People, I am not Miss Social Director at work, but suddenly, my cubicle is Grand Freaking Central Station for the opinions. All the opinions. Opinions on situations demanding flowers, situations that don't, cake responsibilites, cake ordering, plate and cup ordering, more flower situations, desk versus the gravesite, card logistics, long term sick leave strategy, who is in the hospital, whose girlfriend lives five hours away and the guy still commutes to work here every day and how many sick and or/hospitalized mothers does he *have*, what constitutes close family members, and those darned managers and their crazy, crazy ways.
*leans back in uncomfortable chair*
In one corner, we have My Committee--and when they did become rabid defenders of the common man and fiscal solvency anyway?--who we will dub the Revolutionaries. Every hour or so, one of them finds a reason to drop by my office and spend twenty minutes discussing the situation and condemning The Man. No, not kidding.
Corner Two, the Managers, who apparently had a *meeting about this* on Monday. No. Really. They met to discuss flower protocols. I am lost on words. I'd like to dub them The Crazy. But I probably won't, because with my luck, I'll say it during a meeting and wow, unemployment, good for writing, not so much for regular laptop payments. Group Three is the various members of the office who feel the need to almost take a side and sometimes spread weird and unfounded gossip--or in the case of the guy living with his girlfriend, not so unfounded--and making it more indecipherable with every retelling. Then.
Well, then there's me.
If this falls out like I'm pretty sure it will, the entire situation will be blamed on me for sending flowers the first time to a woman who entered the hospital in an emergency due to abdominal bleeding by internet instead of convening a meeting on the spot and taking an officewide vote on how to respond to the situation. See, this is what happens when I take unilateral, leaderly action! Unilateral, leaderly action demanded by *my* manager and agreed on by my committee. My next item of business is to declare my cubicle an independent nation and negotiate for ambassadors while I hold the committee funds hostage.
I'm sorry. This is the most fun I have ever had watching crazy people. Oh *wow*. So Dilbert is actually *real*. Who knew?
I don't think I've ever loved life more.
I need a dictator icon. To show my unilateral self demanding cake, not bread, and ordering flowers in defiance of all the laws of god and man.