The Peevery

Starting Off On the Wrong Foot

My new boss starts on Monday.  Today he calls me and firstly he calls me JoannA and secondly he asks if I've mailed the packet of new hire paperwork he requested yet.  Uh, no.  What paperwork?  Apparently he requested we send him a packet about two weeks ago.  So glad whoever he requested it from bothered to tell us. 

Ignorance Is Not a Badge of Honor

If you don't understand how you can effectively use Web 2.0 applications and social media as marketing tools to encourage user engagement with your web site and promote your brand, maybe you shouldn't be in this business. Mocking said applications and networks to another professional does not inspire confidence in your abilities.

(Please note that this does not apply to The Peevery because I don't give a shit about user engagement or promoting my brand. I only care about promoting my ASS in your FACE.)

(Please note that I don't even care about promoting my ass in your face but that I was momentarily inhabited by the spirit of a nine-year-old boy who made type that, you RETARD BUTTLICKER.)

(Please note that I am now going to bed as I appear to have completely lost my shit.)

Recipe For Disaster

Ingredients:
2 web servers
1 Car bound for Vegas
1 Chief Technology Officer
1 Head of Programming and Development
1 Lead Designer
1 Pushy, Obnoxious Client
A dash of me

Preheat to about 500, knowing major project is going live on Monday for Client. At noon, move all contents of one server to the server that is going live for 20 minutes. Do not wait to cool down.

Start Car and pour in CTO, Development Head, and Project Lead Designer into seats. Press gas and point in direction of Las Vegas. Make sure CEO is out of town (this is optional, but recommended).

Wait about two hours until car is far enough baked through Barstow and allow server to get fucked up. Add a dash of Me and watch me blow!

Open Peeve Friday

We have one lonely little peeve this week from MiseryHatesCompany.

If you are going to take the time to call my office to get a phone number for whatever agency you need to talk to, have a pen - pencil - some type of writing utensil at the ready! 

Or when you say you need a minute to find something to write on or complain that you can't write something down while talking on the phone and driving I may actually laugh out loud.

Where's Gordon Ramsay When You Need Him?

I never thought that this complaint would come out of my mouth...my CEO is too nice. We have too many laid back, unprofessional people in decision making roles and there are no repercussions for their actions or lack thereof. Show up with a hangover? Let's joke about it. Miss a delivery date? That's okay as long as the client is informed. Finding out data hasn't been backed up after a server blows up? I'll get mad at you now, but it'll be over in a couple of minutes. If you want to be the good cop, you need to bring in a bad cop. Pronto!

Who is this?

Note to self:  Do not just put a name into the Outlook Calendar without giving a description of who they are and what they want, otherwise on the day they are due you will call all over trying to figure out if your appointment is a salesman you can basically mostly ignore while he gives his pitch or someone you actually have to have materials prepared for.

Does Not Compute

I am supposed to be at work by 9:00 am.  My commute is 10 minutes. 

It is 8:28 am and I've not yet showered or eaten breakfast. I require at least 30 minutes for showering and eating. 

I've been awake for hours but I just don't feel like getting to work before 9:22 am.

Am I killing my husband's career?

Every time I see my husband's boss, I'm half-lit and doing stupid things.  Last night I was drinking big bottles of beer while attractively wolfing down crumbly store-bought sugar cookies because the beer made me so hungry, and telling dumb stories with mouth full of said cookies.  Cookie crumbs settled all over bosom area.  Classy.

I hate you, Sunday

Sunday means the end of the weekend.  Sundays are filled with hatred for Monday, and the sick anticipation of getting my ass out of bed at 5am, making sure I've packed everything, driving to the airport, standing in the checkpoint line, flying to Philadelphia.  Sundays are full of running around like a crazywoman, making sure everything is set for the boys before I leave.  Sundays are full of planning on going to bed way early but actually not getting to sleep before midnight, because I'm a moron.

Did she really say that?

I visit organizations like children's homes and transitional-housing-programs and sometimes think they are nicer than my own home and garden, and I don't feel so badly for the people living there. 

WTF is wrong with you, Blaugra?  Get a grip on reality.