#hive of dysfunction

[failedtoplan]

Do not make a joke about French fries

The first real interaction between me and my rude boss involved him making a math error, and me finding it.  Turns out he was buying the company, which is why they wanted additional help.  That involves a lot of paperwork, unsurprisingly.  I burned hours on Excel, which is something of a forte of mine, from the time I spent working in environmental protection.  The old owner gave us a formula that was supposed to calculate average profits, but when we put it in, it was all fucky.  The new boss had inadvertently doubled the number of months in the formula.  I thought this is the kind of thing that would normally make a good impression, since I wasn’t a dick about it or anything.  I thought it would show that I am diligent and competent, and detail-oriented.  I thought a whole lot of things when I started here.

[failedtoplan]

Here we go...

The story of my life at work, or, Tales from the Hive of Dysfunction.

I work in a specialty construction field.  I manage a desk and a department.  I stare into the abyss daily.  Most of my coworkers are exceptionally sane, but the bad news is the place isn’t calibrated to us.  They’re the ones who encouraged me to make a memoir out of this, though being a filthy netizen above all else, I turned it into more-or-less-liveblogging.  Names are changed to protect the innocent-- and our employees-- but everything else is real.  I promise, I don’t have the imagination to make this up, or the stomach to exaggerate.