bah

work day

endure/withhold/subvert/exhale

another pay cheque earned

Off I go to buy a lotto ticket

When does something become a phenomenon?

I wonder this as I reflect on seven years of less than stellar work experiences. I also wonder at the amount of time I have put in doing things I was unhappy doing, being harassed and humiliated by people I wouldn't pass the time of day with if they hadn't been in charge of me and I hadn't need a pay cheque.

I find it quite remarkable that so many people in positions of power over other people do such a lousy job of managing their employees responsibly and reasonably well. Have we become so self centered and care worn here in North America that we must resort to belittling, incidious behaviour toward the people who support us in what we do?

I am so tired of this shit. I am tired of not getting recognition for the work I do well, for being disrespected on a daily basis, for the petty criticisms, the sexism, of being made to feel stupid.

Are there no good workplaces out there? From what I have encountered the answer, sadly, is no.

Grrrrrrrrrrr

I so love it when I spend two days working on a proposal and my boss not only claims it as his own work but does not even bother thanking me for doing it for him.

My thought balloon has swears in it right now.

Built to last

Another IKEA story so soon you say?

When we renovated our house seven years ago we decided the cost effective (i.e. cheaper) thing would be to put in IKEA cupboards in the kitchen. And hell, while we were at it let's get the IKEA sink and faucet, too! One stop shopping is so convenient.

Well.

It turns out that IKEA stuff is not made to last. I know, hey? Totally surprising.

Seven years later I find myself with chipped formally attractive white cupboards (can you say get me another bottle of whiteout?) and even worse, kitchen taps and a sink that no plumber wants to touch.

We currently have a drip that we had to phone four places to get a plumber to come fix. Whenever we said IKEA they said no way they wouldn't come and fix it.

In order to woo a plumber I decided to not mention that darn Swedish word. The first guy they sent over was GIANT PLUMBER and he couldn't fit into the cupboard to fix the faucet. Skinny guy plumber came next and thankfully offered to fix the faucet.

I loved him from the beginning because he said, "IKEA stuff is junk, but here's what I'll do. I will replace the old parts with the new parts (from the extra faucet I bought at IKEA for $119 just to be safe) and put the old parts in the new faucet so you can return it and get your money back."

Ah, just my kind of twisted revenge.

In the end he had to replace the entire faucet because he couldn't get the old one apart (Of course not. That would have made things easy.). I will just have to trot into IKEA with the broken bits and demand my money back after all. IKEA you can suck it!

The beauty and mystery of living in northern Canada

From today's paper:

TRAFFIC THREAT
Mating wildlife poses a significant threat to drivers during the month of November. The erratic behaviour of moose and deer during this amorous season can be blamed for countless collisions every year. Extra caution should be observed when animal migration occurs, at dusk and twilight.

(and when the bars close)

And another thing

Who the hell planned Halloween and the time change to happen one right after the other?!

Between the vibrating sugar rushes and following BIG crashes, combined with the mixed up sleep schedules ("No, dear. It's not 6, it's FIVE A.M. new time" and the evening "No dear, it's not six o'clock, it's really seven o'clock in old time and therefore bedtime") my sweet babes turned into grumpy ghouls.

Next time, as I tell my kids, talk to a parent first!

And all I wanted was a light bulb

I went to IKEA the other night. It was an hour before closing and I cavalierly thought I could just dash in and get the two things I needed and be out within 20 minutes. HA!

Have you been to IKEA, lately? The one I go to has changed its upstairs to resemble some sort of complex maze of kitchenware and sofas. Each time I turned a corner after following the happy, helpful blue and yellow signs bearing the hopeful message: "Exit this way!" I was confronted with yet another clever way to display my flugblava. I felt more and more twisted upon myself with each corner I turned. After about the 5th dead end/wrong turn I clutched my hair in futility and desparately sobbed: "I just want to see my family again!"

And that's how the helpful blond man in the cheery yellow shirt found me - a weeping heap stylishly arranged on a turgbloma. He threw me in one of those convenient big blue shopping bags and hauled my sorry ass to the exit.