So, I like to talk about my period in my blog. A lot.
And if you don't want to read further on today's post, you've been warned.
Today, I let my inner bitch go outer.
I feel I was within my right - I have a colleague - I'll him call "The Kid" - who I'm trying to ramp up on three products he just doesn't get and can't train on.
One of them we train on only once or twice a quarter - but when my other teammate (who we'll call Katrina, even though he's a dude) in the department left back in January, we told The Kid that this product was his baby and he needed to learn it prior to Katrina's departure.
To absolutely nobody's surprise, both Katrina and The Kid failed in this endeavor. Which leaves me to be the sole supporter of the product. It's not hard, it's not something we sell often. But if I win the lottery, or get hit by a bus, I need back-up.
So. We had one of these trainings scheduled... weeks ago WEEKS. And I invited The Kid to get on the call, take notes and get ready to start training. I'm not being harsh - this product is an off-shoot of something he's been working on since day one.
The call was to start at 9AM. And, he wasn't at his desk. At 9:01, I get an IM from him to record the session.
I messaged back: Don't Bother.
Which didn't make sense, but what I meant by it was, AYFKM? I'm not going to be bothered.
I finished my training - The Kid still wasn't at his desk. I was about to message The Kid's manager, which, for reasons too complex to go into, is not the same person who is my manager. I wondered if he was sick or what?
And then The Kid walks in. At like 10:15.
Turns out he overslept.
OVERSLEPT.
Now, I understand what it's like to be tired. Tuesday, I flew to Chicago for the day - woke up at my usual 6:40, went to the airport with my colleagues, we worked our way through horrendous traffic and bad directions - no lunch or bathroom breaks - went straight into a 2PM meeting. The customer was so engrossed in our presentation - they asked us to stay past our scheduled two hours. So we met for three hours and fifteen minutes. Then we grabbed a quick meal, headed back to the airport and got home at 11:15 PM. And packed my husband's bag for his trip the next morning.
So I get tired. I do. Yesterday, by the time I got home I was dead. I decided to lie down before dinner....and woke up at 4AM. Went back to sleep and got up when my alarm went off. So yes, tired and I are acquainted.
But to oversleep and be TWO HOURS LATE?
I'll cut to the chase. I was bitchy to him about missing the class.
And I posted about it in a vague way on Facebook. As I will:
Look, I get it that I'm a bitch, but if you're going to do something irritating, it's going to make that tendency more pronounced. So...what's your takeaway from this little exchange?
One friend suggested: "Don't Poke The Bitch?"
We might get shirts printed.
Another posted: "I'm guessing you're premenstrual?" To which, I replied,
Congrats on an excellent diagnosis. I checked my Hello Kitty calendar (which I keep for that exact reason) and...well, that explains my insatiable craving for Indian food.
Because I totally do:
Notice the little mark on 8/12? Survey says.... DING DING DING!!!!!
I also stopped and got Indian for lunch. Because, come on. I'm only human.
Curry shuts my inner bitch up.
But for future reference: Don't Poke The Bitch!
ae
And if you don't want to read further on today's post, you've been warned.
Today, I let my inner bitch go outer.
I feel I was within my right - I have a colleague - I'll him call "The Kid" - who I'm trying to ramp up on three products he just doesn't get and can't train on.
One of them we train on only once or twice a quarter - but when my other teammate (who we'll call Katrina, even though he's a dude) in the department left back in January, we told The Kid that this product was his baby and he needed to learn it prior to Katrina's departure.
To absolutely nobody's surprise, both Katrina and The Kid failed in this endeavor. Which leaves me to be the sole supporter of the product. It's not hard, it's not something we sell often. But if I win the lottery, or get hit by a bus, I need back-up.
So. We had one of these trainings scheduled... weeks ago WEEKS. And I invited The Kid to get on the call, take notes and get ready to start training. I'm not being harsh - this product is an off-shoot of something he's been working on since day one.
The call was to start at 9AM. And, he wasn't at his desk. At 9:01, I get an IM from him to record the session.
I messaged back: Don't Bother.
Which didn't make sense, but what I meant by it was, AYFKM? I'm not going to be bothered.
I finished my training - The Kid still wasn't at his desk. I was about to message The Kid's manager, which, for reasons too complex to go into, is not the same person who is my manager. I wondered if he was sick or what?
And then The Kid walks in. At like 10:15.
Turns out he overslept.
OVERSLEPT.
Now, I understand what it's like to be tired. Tuesday, I flew to Chicago for the day - woke up at my usual 6:40, went to the airport with my colleagues, we worked our way through horrendous traffic and bad directions - no lunch or bathroom breaks - went straight into a 2PM meeting. The customer was so engrossed in our presentation - they asked us to stay past our scheduled two hours. So we met for three hours and fifteen minutes. Then we grabbed a quick meal, headed back to the airport and got home at 11:15 PM. And packed my husband's bag for his trip the next morning.
So I get tired. I do. Yesterday, by the time I got home I was dead. I decided to lie down before dinner....and woke up at 4AM. Went back to sleep and got up when my alarm went off. So yes, tired and I are acquainted.
But to oversleep and be TWO HOURS LATE?
I'll cut to the chase. I was bitchy to him about missing the class.
And I posted about it in a vague way on Facebook. As I will:
Look, I get it that I'm a bitch, but if you're going to do something irritating, it's going to make that tendency more pronounced. So...what's your takeaway from this little exchange?
One friend suggested: "Don't Poke The Bitch?"
We might get shirts printed.
Another posted: "I'm guessing you're premenstrual?" To which, I replied,
Congrats on an excellent diagnosis. I checked my Hello Kitty calendar (which I keep for that exact reason) and...well, that explains my insatiable craving for Indian food.
Because I totally do:
 |
Notice the little mark on 8/12? Survey says.... DING DING DING!!!!!
I also stopped and got Indian for lunch. Because, come on. I'm only human.
Curry shuts my inner bitch up.
But for future reference: Don't Poke The Bitch!
ae
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