Today was a repeat of yesterday. It differed in the aspect that at the moment the work clock began ticking, my phone rang, and I was ushered into a meeting with yesterday's protagonist and my mentor. This phone call followed the previous evening's decision by the mentor and myself to take the path of least resistance and just do what the sales rep wanted instead what they had agreed to. It was a decision that alleviated me from the drip drip of needed data, and circle-speak evading best practices and bigger picture rationale. So, the words out of my mouth were, "your project is done, Mentor and I decided to build the new plans and forego having any historical data." Salesperson was elated, but decided 15 minutes of dialogue was needed to flush out a lot of shit I had no interest in hearing. The deal was over, you have the money, I have the drugs - walk away. Instead, a retelling of the story that brought us today was somehow warranted, and the understudy for facts took stage. Just as I was leaving my body, traveling into the Flogging Molly poster above my desk, recalling the deafening and incomprehensible volume at which the band played that one March in St. Petersburg, the weight of stupidity lurched forth and knocked me out of my journey. Salesperson no longer wanted to talk about the project at hand, but instead picked a fight with my mentor about months old "expectations" that she and Mentor had completely different narratives and recollections of. Melting into my chair, my audible sighs seemed to offer no indication of my discomfort. I had witnessed a similar exchange between this pugilists at the end of the year, and it was equally riveting then as it is now, in that I'd rather pull out my own wisdom teeth. Salesperson left the call, and I was left with a miffed Mentor. She repeated to me all of the words she said to Salesperson, as if I had been invisible for the past 43m, 37s.
45 Minutes later, the Mentor called me again to say that Salesperson was sifting through her Outlook archive in search of evidence to bolster her arguments. This is the same Salesperson that couldn't find 15 minutes to talk yesterday and declined my calendar invites. Pettiness is not becoming when you are the one holding all the cards, always. We talked for 10-ish minutes before I was saved by someone calling her.
Tonight, at exactly 5:01 PM, texts start dropping in rapid succession. Salesperson wants me to hear her side of the story. "Bitch, again?", I thought... I ignored the texts until they my last nerve was struck. I told her that Mentor deserved her thanks, not me, because Mentor decided to give Salesperson what they wanted, not me. She then told me I was "too humble". "How can you be too humble?", I asked. She attacked my phone with bewildering narratives about money, and our company, and seniority - and I left my phone downstairs for awhile to take over for me while I watched the news.
Somehow, I know there will be more to all this insanity tomorrow. Because egos have been bruised and there must be an equivalency in pain.
In other news, I had a dream that I awoke from at 4 AM, and it was a dream I wanted to remember and record. As my alarm was going off in the next 2 hours, I mentioned to myself to note this for when you get up later. I am only now remembering this dialogue with myself but zero things about the dream. That's a load of crap. Stupid brain. Maybe it was foreshadowing and something will remind me of the events.
That's all I have. Shitty work talk. Fuck me.
Listening to: Cindytalk - "Wappinschaw"
No comments:
Post a Comment