Suddenly realizing that it was less than two weeks until Christmas, I decided to duck out of work early to do a bit of shopping. Because I work from home these days, I am always leery about leaving early for fear of getting a call from my boss, thereby confirming his opinion that I am a total slacker. So of course it was around 5:30 that he called me as I was strolling aimlessly through the aisles at Best Buy. Panicked and not wanting him to hear the shopping crowd and audio-visual background noise, I sent his call to voicemail. He left the following message:
Bipolar Bear (BPB): "David, (boss' name). Give me a call at home, 555-555-1212."
Fuck. Me. What the hell is so urgent that he wants me to call him at home? Did he want to talk about his last email that I never responded to? Am I going to get yelled at for something I did wrong in his bizarro-world opinion? Have I been fired?
There's no way that I can avoid calling him back. I finished my shopping and headed to the car to figure out how to answer his question "I tried you in your office, where are you?"
I waded through the parking lot, hopped in the car and rang him back. After a few minutes of chit chat, we got to the actual meat of the conversation which went a little something like this:
BPB: "Next Thursday, the VP of Marketing will be traveling to St. Louis to discuss (insert inane project). She's only going to be here for that one day and I am out of the office starting that afternoon, so we need to hold an early morning meeting that I'd like you to join."
Me (gleefully over his upcoming vacation): "Okay, sounds good."
BPB: "So we've scheduled the call for 7:30 a.m. next Thursday."
Me: "Uhh, is that Pacific time or Central time?"
BPB: "Central."
Hello 5:30 a.m. conference call next week. I'm estimating that he over-under on the actual hours of sleep I get on Wednesday night is about 3.5 hours, as I invariably have trouble sleeping when I have to get up inordinately early the next morning. I also put the over-under on the number of cups of coffee I drink that morning at 17. If I die from some crazy caffeine-infused overdose, it was good knowing you all. (Of course, no one would immediately know since I only seem to post here once every 12 days).
Oh well, at least the BPB will be on vacation and I'll be able to enjoy a nice holiday respite from the work nightmare. Which leaves me plenty of time for my daily nap and job searching.
Observed on the second Sunday in May, Mother's Day is an annual holiday honoring florists, and marks the final date where retailers can rid themselves of the stale chocolates and heart-clutching teddy bears left over from Valentine's Day.
Today is a very special day, because it marks the 30 day countdown to the day that (1) I receive my annual bonus, and (2) I get to notify my company my bipolar boss that I am no longer working for his insane ass. Oh, and it's Valentine's Day, too. Happy Valentine's Day, kiddies!
Suddenly realizing that it was less than two weeks until Christmas, I decided to duck out of work early to do a bit of shopping. Because I work from home these days, I am always leery about leaving early for fear of getting a call from my boss, thereby confirming his opinion that I am a total slacker. So of course it was around 5:30 that he called me as I was strolling aimlessly through the aisles at Best Buy. Panicked and not wanting him to hear the shopping crowd and audio-visual background noise, I sent his call to voicemail. He left the following message:
Here's wishing all the moms and soon-to-be-moms a very happy Mother's Day. I know this is no substitute for actual Mother's Day cards, but I'm lame. But it's the thought that counts, right?
Valentine's Day ranks right up there with New Year's and George W. Bush Day as my least favorite holiday. However even a hard ass like myself couldn't resist the romantic draw of this card. Happy Valentine's Day everyone!
