Posted by: guinness222 | June 16, 2008

Hey Doc,…why am I depressed?

      Well boys and girls, it’s monday morning again. It was a good weekend, what with Father’s Day and all, pretty much enjoyed both Saturday and Sunday, wrestled with a few problems, arrived at the right decisions, but still questioning them in my mind before I fianlly cave in and admit to my self they are the right decisions, and the smart ones, not the impulsive, “gotta have it” decisions,….(sigh) OK, I’m over it!

    But I’m really begining to hate Monday mornings, I have that sick ball of discomfort firmly lodged in my gut. You know the one, the pre-nausea, “son of a bitch it’s monday again” one. About the only thing I can attribute it to is my job. Here is my dysfunctional company, from the top down;

              Boss/Owner – 28 year old (look good at all times GQ may be calling), mommy made a success in business, gave him a few breaks and now he’s “”da man” (his dog gets more groom and vet time than I get Doctor and Haircuts!) and then there is the priority of life, sleep late (rest is paramount to good health), eat lunch religiously, even amid disasters, crisis, and the end of the world,…oh, and even if lunchtime is less than 30 minutes after you arrive for work for the day! Put in a couple of grueling hours after lunch, break to play Basketball with the “buds” about four pm (again exercise is healthy, ..oh, and lunch is always a salad of some sort. (There are days I’d love to tie him to his chair and stuff hot dogs with mustard, relish, chili, etc. down his throat along with bags of potato chips and watch him turn that disgusting green that all the “salad people” get when they see hotdogs loaded with goop!) Alas another hard day at the office!

      Then there is the “bookeeper”, well I’ve written about her before, attitude of a pit bull on PMS, over two hundred and fifty pounds, and as polite and cooperative as a fast food ordertaker on steroids. She couldn’t count her own toes, let alone hundreds of thousands of dollars for others! (And that’s what really scares the crap out of me!) When ever she screws up she gives it one of the lamest “I’m sorry”, you know the kind that you know damn well she doesn’t mean it, and there is no way it’s not going to happen again in less than a day,…but worst yet she doesn’t care if it does or not!

      Then the “Accounting Manager” who needs and optometrist (always less than six inches from the computer screen squinting at it with this screwed up look on his face) He’s in his early forties, drives a Porsche, has a Harley, dresses like a local construction guy on a break, and sure as shit is “THE MANAGER”, and therefore only does “adjusting entries”, and stays away from day to day accounting, leaving it for “the bookeeper” who supplies him with plenty of “correction fodder” so he can stay, “THE MANAGER”

       New girl, seems ok, knows accounting, pretty “dowdy” sort of the “rode hard put away wet” look drives this beat up old Jeep with no top on it. Pleasant enough but not a real tower of self confidence.

     Oh yeah, then there’s me, Savior of the universe, wise and confident,….ok so now the real me, the guy responsible for keeping the important clients happy, even though the accounting is all screwed up,…constantly,…”THE BOSS” is afraid to tell them we are not slaves but managers and tasked with guiding thier Associations, not the step ‘n fetch it’s of the world.  I am not a gopher, it just flat ass don’t work for my personality, not one iota. I am a problem solver, an “outside the box” guy, a let’s make it go guy, not an “Action item”gopher, a vassal in the midevil kingdom of whining rich bastards, nor a plaything to be micro-managed like a silly pet! That stron enough for you?

     Oh and this weekend, on Saturday no less, “THE BOSS” sends out an e-mail to all the meployees reminding us the economy is “not good”, our clients can’t afford to pay thier bills, (hence possibly not us as well), and that we should give them absolutely stellar service, beyond the pale, and make them not even think of saving a buck by dropping thier contract with us.  (Hmmmm,…let me see you means we should grovel more, say “yes sir Massa” with more meaning, and despite being asked to do stupid things, look the other way from “common sense”, and not worry too much about the ‘real’ legality of it kiss ass “lovingly” all day! No wonder I got a knot in my stomach on monday morning, drink Guinness to a larger quantity than I should, and keep wrestling with my mind and stay away from getting that gun permit! Got it!

    (sigh) In a lot of ways I hate being a take charge problem solver and living in this “Court Jester” circus where kissing client ass to keep thier money is number one, two and three, and solving thier problems and providing thier needs is only an after-thought,….after we get thier money, and then only what we have to do for “blue smoke ‘n mirrors” to make it appear we really work and pretend to care,…not that we do. It’s like the bookeeper’s “I’m sorry” ,….it ain’t worth a shit!

    To me that’s stealing from people, and I know as God is my judge it will come back and bite them in the ass big-time!!



  1. Why is it always the rich folk that are so poor with their money that they spend it like water and don’t even realize it’s gone til things start getting repoed? Then they try to blame it all on someone else. Your job would give me ulcers and terrible personality problem. 😛 I hate mondays too though. Even more so as they 1st starts approaching, then I have to come back full time. What the hell am I going to do for 8 hours?!!!

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